


Suna Suna no Naruto

by ShadowedAuthor



Category: Naruto
Genre: Captive Naruto, Crazy big brother Gaara, Delusional Gaara, Gen, Improvised Jinchuriki Families, Lonely Gaara, Sand Siblings-centric, Sand User Naruto, Suna based Naruto, Sunagakure no Sato
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 52,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowedAuthor/pseuds/ShadowedAuthor
Summary: After the Genin exam debacle, when Iruka failed to save the day, Naruto was left to die in the deserts of Kaze no Kuni and his “salvation” at the hands of the Snake leaves him fundamentally changed. Wandering into Suna, his path naturally crosses with another sand-user, whose psychosis causes some awkward misunderstandings. Now trapped by a psychopath calling himself his brother in a hostile and unfamiliar village, Naruto must try to maintain his sanity while planning ahead like never before.





	1. Painful Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> I have previously posted this story on the other fanfic site and decided to see if anyone here might like to read it too.
> 
> As the title suggests, this story takes inspiration from the One Piece character Sir Crocodile, particularly his Devil Fruit abilities. This will be the only point of crossover for the series so I have leave it with just the Naruto tag, rather than the One Piece ones as well. 
> 
> As with my other works, there will be no pairing in this one either.

 

I didn't realise they allowed art on this site. This wonderful piece of coverart was donated by the great Spiral of Destiny. 

 

It was so hot; the uncomfortable sweatiness that had plagued him earlier on his trek had long since dried up and now all that was left was the exhaustion and the vague sense that his mind was slowing down. He hadn’t been a great thinker beforehand but now that his dehydration was nearing its final stages, he was struggling to remember how he had gotten here and where he was going.

 

He was aiming for something wet but any more specifics were lost to the haze.

 

He stumbled onto a path, or maybe it was a road; it was visibly indistinct from the surrounding dunes but it was pleasantly firm compared to the free sand that he had been trudging through for…

 

He had no idea how long he had been doing this… thing…

 

Walking. He was walking. That was the word.

 

He followed the road with no clue which direction he was travelling in, unable to look up to see if he was close to anything. He’d been fooled by mirages before (he was almost sure that had happened) and plus moving his head was beyond him right now. His legs were the priority.

 

He could feel his back and his neck cooking. He’d wrapped his shirt around his head as soon as he had escaped, but after the second sandstorm he had woken up half-buried and minus his shirt/headdress.

 

He couldn’t bother himself to look anymore, but the last time he had checked, his arms had been bright pink and itched worse than the sweat had. He’d always thought he was impervious to sunburn when he was growing up, but here he was, learning the only lesson more painful than Iruka-sensei’s patented four-hour history lectures.

 

Still, better pink/scarlet skin than grey. His skin had been grey when he first got out into the sun, before the burns had set in. If he was like the other grey-skinned boys who had been brought back in, his hair was probably white now too. Maybe it wasn’t. The others with the white hair and grey skin had all died.

 

Maybe…

 

…It was too hot to think about things…

 

He would gladly trade all of his hair for the rest of his life for a single glass of water or half an hour under some shade.

 

This was hell, wasn’t it? You were supposed to burn in hell, and here Naruto was burning. This was his punishment for stealing the scroll and betraying Jiji, and for everything that happened in that freak’s cage.

 

He’d been walking on this blessedly firm road for somewhere between an hour and seven years. Even if this was his cursed afterlife, he could feel his legs starting to give out a little more each step. He knew, somehow, that if he collapsed here he would die.

 

With this inevitability in mind, Naruto summoned up the strength required to move his head and take a peek at something that wasn’t his feet or the sand his feet were in contact with. He had never before had to make such a concerted effort to move a muscle, nor to straighten his neck, but now it took all of his rather stunted concentration to look to the horizon and see if he was near to an oasis or a cliff.

 

Either would be welcome.

 

Oh. Great… Another mirage…

 

He had to admit, the one in front of him was a lot more detailed than his last mirage. There were big walls and even little guards stood on them, and some buildings behind the walls.

 

Maybe there would be something to drink behind the mirage.

 

He finally collapsed, either his legs or his feet giving out. Worse than the sunburn, his feet were blistered and red all over the soles ( _that_ might have been the missing patches of skin), having been rubbed down by miles and miles of heated sand and rocks. After water and shade, some form of footwear would be high on Naruto’s wish list.

 

He considered crawling now that he was on the ground, but what was the point?

 

Bloodied knees wouldn’t make his head stop spinning or his throat stop burning. Might as well let himself get started mummifying.

 

“Who’s this?”

 

Huh, the mirages were talking now…

 

Naruto remembered next to nothing about (anything, but especially about) what Iruka-sensei said about mirages, but he thought they didn’t talk.

 

Weird. Anyway, back to dying.

 

“Just a kid. Got ditched by some traders, maybe? There aren’t any Genin missing right now, are there?” The second mirage guard said.

 

“None that I know of. There was that boy the demon killed a couple weeks ago. No body. Maybe he got away.”

 

“Nah, that one had black hair. I saw him on his way out with his group. Civilians always kick up a fuss when theirs disappear. This must be some trader’s kid, then. Probably got raided on their way here.”

 

“What if he’s a spy?”

 

Naruto wished these mirages would stop talking already. Dying was turning out to be as painful as living in this desert.

 

“I don’t know any village that would be willing to do this to a Genin just for infiltration. It’s not like he’s gonna see anything any of the other spies aren’t already seeing in the village.”

 

“He’s not gonna be seeing anything at this rate. He looks like he’s on death’s door. Half tempted to put him out of his misery.”

 

“Kazekage-sama is going to want to talk to him first, you know.”

 

Naruto would never get around to dying if they wouldn’t shut up. He rolled onto his back, which he immediately regretted as his sunburn flared up, as did his exhaustion and his headache. Plus now the sun was in his eyes, even though they were closed.

 

He cracked them open and searched through the flair to see the same blurry figures. Maybe they weren’t a mirage after all. On the off chance they were real, Naruto tried to ask for water.

 

He managed to open his mouth, but his throat was as dry as his… well, everything. He couldn’t even manage a croak, he just ended up breathing out in juddering gasps.

 

“I don’t want to carry him. With my luck, he’ll die on my back.”

 

“You just don’t want to carry him because then you have to deal with Misao-san again. How many rejections is it now?”

 

“Five. She’ll say yes eventually. When I make Jounin, she’ll be all over me.”

 

“When you make Jounin, rain will fall and we’ll have a meadow outside the walls.”

 

“Screw you.” He laughed.

 

“Alright, Rock, Paper, Scissors. Loser has to haul him to the Tower.”

 

“Hold on. He’ll croak.” He pulled the canteen from his belt and Naruto had never concentrated so much on one item in all his life. He would have cried in relief if his tear ducts hadn’t sealed shut two days ago.

 

His head was lifted and the canteen was placed at his lips. Water was tasteless and without scent, but at that moment Naruto smelled water for the first time in days and it was even better than Ramen.

 

Gods, he was delirious!

 

As it flowed into his mouth, just a drizzle, Naruto coughed. It was the greatest relief of his short life, but his body seemed to have forgotten the sensation of swallowing and he ended up coughing and spluttering. He tried again and managed to get a little down his throat. He continued in little gulps, but all too soon the bottle was taken away. He tried to hold onto it with his lips but he couldn’t keep the canteen near him.

 

“Don’t give him too much. He’ll just throw it up when you’re carrying him.”

 

“Yeah, right, you’re gonna be the one carrying him. Come, on. Quicker I can get rejected again, the quicker I can get back to staring at the dunes with you.”

 

“Alright. Rock! Paper! Scissors!” They both revealed their hands. “Ah shit.” He said. Paper beat rock.

 

He knelt down and considered how best to carry the urchin. He would prefer not to have him so close on his back, but carrying him bridal wasn’t much better. He poked the skin and bones and realised how light a dehydrated boy was. He hefted the skeleton under his arm and started walking to the Kazekage’s office.

 

It felt like it would snap the child’s neck if he tried jumping onto one building he took it slow and walked along the streets.

 

Marching through the village with what looked like a child’s corpse under one arm attracted a smidge more attention to him than he had anticipated but the rumour mill would spread the truth soon enough. Saving the life of some orphaned wretch wouldn’t make him a hero but it should be good for at least one lay. The trick was not to waste his time on that frigid secretary, Misao like his partner. The bar near his apartment was much more fertile ground.

 

“Suno, what did you find this time?” A nearby Jounin asked, wandering over. He was probably on his way back from a mission.

 

“Kid wandered to the South Gate from the desert. Probably won’t last much longer. Figured I’d give him to the system. Stop him cluttering up the gate, at least. Enough skulls around the place.”

 

They both laughed and Suno continued onwards.

 

He made it to the Kazekage’s office eventually, after three more stops and an inspection from the village leader’s guards (to make sure the boy _definitely_ wasn’t an assassin or a spy, which they deemed him not to be since he was almost dead and thus not threat to anyone right now), he was admitted to see his busy commander.

 

“Kazekage-sama.”

 

“What is it?” The man asked from behind his bamboo curtain.

 

“A child approached the village from the south, sir. He’s halfway dead.”

 

“Why did you bring him into the village? You should have let him die outside.” The Kazekage had paperwork to do. Plus he had another report from Orochimaru to trawl through. It was trying, having to discern the kernel of truth in that Snake’s missives filled with lies. He didn’t need distractions like this.

 

Suno wasn’t sure what he could say to that. If the Kazekage himself told him to dump a child outside of the walls to die in the sun, he would be forced to comply. These were not the times to try his hand at disloyalty.

 

“Who is he?” In the dim room, it was difficult even for the most powerful shinobi in Suna to see the boy now lying on the floor.

 

“I don’t know, Kazekage-sama. He doesn’t have any identification on him and his only clothing is a simple pair of shorts.”

 

Rasa considered this. His village was going through hard times at the moment and with the plans he had in store, now was hardly the time to be taking in orphans from other countries. Weakness and expense had no place in Suna anymore. And then he thought back to something else. He was missing none of his own Genin but he had received two separate reports of missing children lately. One was from Sarutobi, which he would have happily dismissed offhand, and the other was from Orochimaru, which he dismissed with thought.

 

Now that he was presented with a missing child, he should probably check, if only so he knew which lies to tell when he killed the boy.

 

The Hokage had asked him to send out patrols to search for a missing Genin, apparently wary of upsetting their relations by sending his own (after almost certainly having sent his own and them having failed).

 

“What colour is his hair?”

 

“It looks white, sir. His skin is ashen, too, under the sunburn. It appears to be grey, sir.” Suno reported.

 

“A Kumo boy?”

 

“I’m not sure, sir. I don’t think so. His hair is right but his skin’s not dark enough and his facial features don’t look right. Maybe a mix?”

 

Regardless of this half-breed’s nationality, he wasn’t the tanned, blond Genin Sarutobi “lost” in his country. That meant the boy was the Snake’s lost experiment. Orochimaru had claimed it was just an escaped prisoner who had not been used in his research yet, but Rasa was willing to bet all the gold in his pocket that this was another lie. There was no way that treacherous Sanin would have bothered mentioning the surely dead escapee if he weren’t of some value.

 

Which meant he had some ability, maybe even a rare Kekkei Genkai. Or he was useless. Either way, a simple test would prove how valuable the boy was to the village, and with the test he had in mind, a failure would be taken care of immediately. However, it would have to wait. Even if it was a healing bloodline, it would require a few days of recovery before any exhibition could be reasonably expected.

 

“Take him to the Iryō-nin, tell them he has two days to recover and then he is to be brought to me.”

 

Suno swallowed the lump in his throat. Having the boy looked at by medical-nin was good but it would be useless if he was killed by Kazekage-sama in two days. Still, no point in questioning orders. Kid wasn’t his problem anymore.

 

“Yes, sir.” He picked the boy back up, wondering whether it would more merciful to “accidentally” drop the boy on his way to the hospital and let him die peacefully in a back alley rather than whatever Rasa-sama had in store.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Naruto awoke, which was an unexpected development, out of the sun and without that terrible feeling of sand against his parched skin that had pervaded his senses for the last week, month, year, however long he had been wandering the desert without water. Everything still hurt but the hurt was much better than it had been. His throat still felt like an unused litter tray and he had no energy.

 

The twelve-year-old turned his head, which was on a pillow of all things, to see he was in some sort of hospital. Shit! Had he been sent back to Konoha?!

 

He tried to jerk his head in every direction to see what was around him but that only gave him a neck ache. He went slower and saw the same basic hospital set-up that had been in his home village but it also looked a little different. The IV running into his arm was the same as he had seen in Konoha, as were the sheets and the boring ceiling tiles, but the window let some light through the blinds and it was more blinding than his wonderfully moderate home was. Plus he could smell, behind the industrial disinfectant, the smell of sand.

 

Thank goodness, he hadn’t been sent back to Konoha. Even if he was destined to be executed in this village, wherever it was, it was better than being killed in his home. Better than being condemned by the few people who had trusted him in the world. They all thought he was a traitor now thanks to Mizuki-teme and he had no proof of anything else. Fact of the matter was, he had betrayed the village and stolen that scroll.

 

So, if he was in a hospital, maybe they weren’t going to kill him. Why bother healing him to behead him later? Naruto thought.

 

He must have been in the Village Hidden in the… Rocks? No, that was Iwa…

 

Hidden in the Dunes?

 

No, that wasn’t it.

 

Ah, Village Hidden in the Sand! That was it. In Kaze no Kuni!

 

Were they allies or enemies of Konoha? Would they hand him back or kill him?

 

Wait, how would they know it was him? Even if he was in the Bingo Book (and he was definitely going to be looking for one of those soon to see which picture the used for his S-Rank entry), his skin and hair were different now. He didn’t have anything from home on him, so maybe they wouldn’t know.

 

What if they let him join Suna’s ninja?! If they were allies, he wouldn’t have to fight Konoha-nin or anything, and he could just hide if he ever met anyone from there!

 

But would they even let him? They didn’t know he’d failed his graduation tests, but they probably had their own…

 

Gods his throat was still dry. They were pumping water in his arm, it looked like, but couldn’t they have left him a glass of water or something? Hell, he’d settle for some of that disgusting tea Jiji drank.

 

Not that he’d ever get to drink that tea again…

 

He finally had enough water in his body to let loose a tear which he hastily rubbed into his pillow with his cheek. He was supposed to impress these shinobi, not let them think he was some sort of cry-baby.

 

“Ah, you’re awake.” A doctor had poked his head in while Naruto was distracted, an embarrassing lax since he was supposed to be showing off his ninja skills. He tried to pretend he had known the man was there.

 

“Ugh, ug ack.” He tried to say nonchalantly, only to realise his voice was still gone.

 

“I’ll get you some water. You’re being fed through your IV at the moment but it won’t help your throat.” The kindly doctor held the glass to his cracked lips and he greedily drank what little was poured his way. “Not too much. You’ve been asleep for two days but you’re doing quite well.” He propped Naruto up with some pillows. “Kazekage-sama has ordered that you be brought to him in three hours. It would be in your best interests if you can walk and speak by then.”

 

The concern evident on the man’s face made Naruto think this Kazekage person was not a kindly as his Hokage had been.

 

Over the next two hours, Naruto practiced moving his sluggish arms and his bandaged feet under the thin bed sheet while periodically working very hard to reach for the glass of water on the bedside cabinet. The doctor who had not offered his name nor asked Naruto’s had left him to his exercises, probably to see his other patients.

 

Naruto was finding it easier the more he moved his stiff body, although he could feel the heavy amount of bandages and other protections over his feet, arms, neck and back. With the amount of care they had given him, he was feeling more and more confident in his assessment that they probably weren’t going to kill him immediately (unless he gave them a good reason to).

 

By the time the doctor came back in, Naruto had taken two steps on the cool tile floor before retreating to the supportive bed. Even standing still, he’d felt like a soft wind could knock him on his face, which was perfect since he happened to be in Wind.

 

“It’s time. I can help you get there but you will have to walk into the tower on your own. Do not disappoint Kazekage-sama, for both our sakes.” The doctor was more worried than Naruto thought was necessary.

 

How mean could the village leader be if he had been acknowledged by everyone here?

 

The doctor, whose name Naruto would ask for if he saw him again after this ominous meeting, pulled Naruto’s arm over his shoulder and helped him out of the hospital. Naruto would have happily swapped for a wheelchair but beggars couldn’t be choosers. With how diminished he felt after simply walking to the elevator, he couldn’t risk sending away his helpful doctor.

 

He garnered a number of curious looks from the hard faces of the Suna citizens, for the second time that week, he was unaware. Walking was painful, as was pretty much everything at the moment, but he persevered without letting himself show too much pain. He had a chance to start anew here, and here they wouldn’t know he was the deadlast. And they wouldn’t know about him being the Kyubi.

 

The doctor led him to the biggest building in the village and said his farewells, evidently eager not to have to face the Kazekage himself.

 

In Naruto’s mind he started to conjure images of an even older, grumpier Jiji, scowling with sharpened teeth poking out.

 

He limped as fast he could through the door, drawing even more conspicuous stares from the shinobi working in the building. The fact that none of them stepped in to help him or stop him probably meant that he was expected and he best not be late.

 

Unlike the hospital, there were no elevators here so he winced as he climbed every step, wishing dearly for another week of bed rest. It was as he reached the top of the first flight of stairs that he realised he did not know where he was going but unlike the ground floor, the upper areas seemed to be deserted, which meant he had no one to ask for directions.

 

The thought of going down stairs only to have to come right back up was beyond him right now so he continued his ascent figuring it would be like Jiji’s tower and the Kage’s office would be on the top floor somewhere, probably behind a scary secretary.

 

As it turned out, thankfully, he was wrong, as he only had to climb to the fourth floor, around halfway up the tower, before he encountered a busier area and a suitably strict-looking kunoichi manning a desk. Worse came to worse, he would just be told to climb another five hundred flights of stairs.

 

He wheezed as he hobbled along the hardwood floor to the desk.

 

“I was told to report to the Kazekage.” He rasped. Even though he had managed to drink his fill under the doctor’s watchful eye, he was still parched.

 

“You’re late.” She said, sparing him only one glance before getting up and going to introduce the visitor and explain that the delay was in no way her fault.

 

“He’s waiting for you. Remember your place.” She said, unsure whether the boy would know how to address a Kage, especially her employer/commander who was particular about the respect shown to him.

 

He nodded to her, saving what little voice he had for his forthcoming interrogation. He just needed to remember what he had planned to say since he woke up.

 

Inside the office was nothing like Jiji’s light and cluttered working room, this was more like what he imagined a Daimyo’s audience chamber might look like. There was a shadowed figure sitting behind a bamboo curtain which Naruto presumed was the Kazekage.

 

He entered, careful not to stumble, and slowly sank into seiza, wincing as sitting on his burned calves made the skin irritations flare up.

 

“What is your name?” The Kazekage’s voice was gruff but younger than he expected.

 

So, now to start his carefully formulated but intentionally vague backstory…

 

Crap, he forgot to come up with a fake name!

 

Quickly, as quickly as his brain was ever able to work, he tried to summon as many boys names as he could. Sasuke was out, so was Kiba, and Chouji didn’t sound right, Shikamaru was a silly name to begin with, nothing like his majestic name. But what could he use?! Naruto was an outlaw name now, so he would call himself…

 

He’d been pausing too long now, he needed something other than Naruto, but it was all he could think of.

 

“Menma, sir.”

 

Crap! He hated menma, especially when they got caught in his teeth. Damn, and now he was stuck with it.

 

“Menma? That was the best you could do, a ramen topping?” Rasa consider making the boy tell him his real name, but it wouldn’t be of any use to him anyway. “Foolish child. Lie to me again and I will send to my torturers. Why are you here?”

 

“I would like to join your village, Kazekage-sama.” Naruto said, bowing into dogeza and trying not to think too hard about torture methods.

 

“You would ask to join my village but what use do I have for a half-dead street rat with no possessions or name?”

 

“I’m a shinobi, sir. A Genin.” With any luck, that lie would not be the breaking of him, Naruto thought. “I was trained by Gezo-sensei. He was a nuke-nin from Kusagakure but he was killed and I ended up in the desert.”

 

“I’ve never heard of him. So you’re a half-dead, half-trained disciple of some no-name Chunin missing-nin who did not rate a place in the Bingo Book? As a foreigner, you could never be trusted with any of my village’s important secrets, you could not survive a trek through the desert, you are probably weaker than even a fresh Genin, so what reason do I have to admit you to my shinobi?”

 

“I can fight, sir.” Naruto knew he wasn’t supposed to contradict the man, but he still had some slither of pride left over from before his time in that cage. “And I’m fast, and I…” He had hoped the offer of cheap labour would be a good enough draw here. He hadn’t expected to have to sell himself like this. Suddenly the boastful boy came up short in front of the terrifying village leader.

 

“Is that all?” Rasa was about ready to send the boy back to Orochimaru at this rate. His tentative ally would most likely play at being grateful for delivering the boy back to him, whereas so far the boy had shown no interesting or valuable abilities. His doctors had found no physiological abnormalities either, so there was no reason not to let the Snake continue his nefarious experiments.

 

“Um, well, there is one other thing.” Naruto could sense the danger in the air. It was now or never. “I can turn rocks into sand by touching them.” He wished he could say more of this technique he didn’t remember learning, but the only time he had managed to use it was when he first received it and that had been by accident.

 

“You can create sand?” Rasa could not imagine a less useful ability in the desert if he tried. Outside of the desert it might be marginally more useful. This Menma boy must have been a work in progress, or else Rasa had overestimated the magnitude of Orochimaru’s research findings.

 

“I think so, I only did it the once. I destroyed the room I was in.”

 

“Very well,” said the Kazekage from behind his obscuring bamboo curtain.

 

“I will allow you to take an entrance test. If you pass you can join as a Genin in my forces.” Naruto nearly jumped out of his skin when the voice of the Kazekage came from right behind him. He spun his head around and found a man standing only a foot away, wearing a blue version of the Hokage’s robes and hat. Naruto glanced back and there was still the same robed shadow behind the curtain. Did that mean he had been addressing a fake the entire time?

 

That didn’t speak well for his abilities.

 

“What is the test sir?” Please don’t say Bunshin, please don’t say Bunshin, please don’t say Bunshin!

 

“A sparring match with my youngest son. He is around your age but is already a Genin. I will observe and decide your fate.”

 

“Thank you, sir, Kazekage-sama. I won’t let you down!” Naruto smiled when he heard the merciful test.

 

Rasa didn’t bother responding. He had been expecting something much more than this these past two days after having reread the vagaries of Orochimaru’s scroll concerning the missing boy. He had thought he would be gaining some powerful abilities the Snake didn’t want him controlling, instead he got a boy who could turn some of his country’s rare rocks into more sand. He might send the remains of the boy back to his partner in crime after the demon was through with him.

 

Naruto had fallen into a less than dignified heap when he tried standing from his seiza position. He got to his feet as quickly as he could, hoping his new boss had not seen that blunder but suspecting he would have known about it even without seeing. Jiji always seemed to know things he shouldn’t have. It made anonymous pranking impossible.

 

“Where is Gaara right now?” The Kazekage asked his secretary.

 

“Training field number four, with his team and sensei.” She responded automatically, knowing offhand.

 

“I will be back in under an hour. Have the new regulation proposals prepared for my signature by then.” He walked on without a parting word. Naruto nodded at her as he followed.

 

Naruto enjoyed going down the stairs compared to climbing them but the pace the village leader was moving at was less pleasant. All he could do was hope the Kazekage would make allowances for his ill-health during the sparring match. As it was, Naruto feared he would collapse upon arrival, regardless of how strong his opponent was.

 

It was a strange thing. Less than forty-five minutes ago, Naruto had walked these same streets and attracted all sorts of stares, but now that he was in the company of Suna’s best shinobi, not one look in his general direction. It was a far cry from the way civilians used to run up to chat with Jiji whenever he was walking about Konoha.

 

People were running in the other direction here.

 

Since the gods never tired from laughing at Naruto’s misfortunate, it came as no surprise when they had to walk almost to the edge of the village to find their aim.

 

“Kazekage-sama!” The supervising Jounin snapped his salute out as soon as the Kazekage was within sight. Two of the others, teenagers, also followed suit, in a noticeably less crisp manner. The last, the redhead who was probably Naruto’s opponent since he looked about the same age, made no move at all, in fact he even seemed to glare.

 

Naruto guessed that was a privilege of being the intimidating leader’s own son. The _scary_ really ran strong in the family, though. The kid was all glares all the time. If Naruto didn’t know any better, he would think this guy wanted to kill everyone he saw.

 

“Wait here.” The Kazekage walked over and explained the test to the Genin team and their instructor, but Naruto was starting to get a bad feeling about this when they kept glancing over at him like he had the plague.

 

Rasa stepped back with his two children and Baki to watch the “match”. He had told Gaara to fight the boy, fully expecting a death within two minutes if the other boy was lucky. With this blood sacrifice, the demon should avoid attacking civilians for a week or two.

 

Rasa’s eyes narrowed when he observed “Menma” bow with his fist and palm together in a distinctly Konoha fashion. Probably just something he saw a real shinobi trainee do, or something his no-name sensei taught him. Or maybe he was originally a Konoha runaway and joined up with a missing-nin. If he lasted all five minutes of the sparring match, he would ask.

 

Likely as it was…

 

“I’m Menma.” Naruto introduced himself, as was polite.

 

“…” The boy stared with those serial-killer eyes of his. Maybe he was just racist and didn’t like foreigners, Naruto mused. The hostility was still better than Sasuke-teme’s haughty disdain, that was for sure.

 

“Begin!” He commanded.

 

Naruto sunk into his defensive stance, unsure of what his opponent would use in this fight. They had been told they were free to use anything, except lethal force Naruto assumed. The weird panda boy would probably attack head on and then Naruto could dodge and attack from the flank.

 

The cork of the panda’s gourd flew off, putting Naruto in mind of a giant carbonated drink, but instead of cola flowing out, Naruto’s least favourite substance came flying towards him. He jumped out of the way of the sand that impacted the ground where he had been stood and immediately made a dash for the caster.

 

He was just as fast as he promised, his adrenalin drowning out the dull throbbing of his burns and lethargy his dehydration had him spelled under still. He was upon the hostile redhead before he could even turn his head. He reached back to deliver a solid punch to his face, smiling at the notion that he could finish this sparring match so swiftly against an obviously competent opponent, when more sand rose from the gourd and block his attack.

 

His knuckle felt broken as he jumped away again, he held it in his other hand. He had attacked in the Kazekage’s son’s blind spot but somehow the sand-user had still blocked his attack. It might have been instinct but Naruto doubted it.

 

He was getting the impression he had bitten off more than he could chew. He risked a look at his prospective employer and those dark eyes were familiar now, they held the same condescension he had known all throw his schooling by that bastard Mizuki. The look he had belatedly identified as the expectation that he would fail.

 

Shit!

 

He kept dodging the sand that almost crushed him half a dozen times and he found no further opportunities to get close to the over-powered Genin. He spotted a stray rock and dove to grab it in his bruised hand. He briefly gave consideration to using whatever power he had to turn it into sand, but other than the fact that he did not know how to use that ability, he decided having a handful of sand on a sandy courtyard, facing a guy who could control the substance, would be less useful than having a decent sized rock to throw.

 

He kept up his dodging routine but there were more near-misses as time went on. He wished there was a clock close by, sure that four and a half minutes had to have passed by now, but in reality less than two had ticked by. He managed to skirt around the stationary opponent and then threw the rock as hard as he could as the redhead’s back. It would hurt like hell but it served him right for using his sand so recklessly.

 

Some of those sand attacks could have killed him!

 

But the rock bounced off of the sand barrier like his fist had. Was someone else controlling the sand? It had to be, which meant that this was not a fair test!

 

He was about to stop and complain about this blatant cheating when his next jump didn’t work. He looked down to see why he hadn’t made it off the ground and he panicked, his foot was stuck.

 

It was impossible to discern the sand of the courtyard and the sand his enemy was using, so he had jumped right into it and now it was climbing all of his body until he was totally encased with just his face showing.

 

“Okay, I concede. Good match. Cool justu.” Naruto smiled nervously. He would have mouthed off about this injustice here and now but those crazy eyes were still looking at him like he had insulted the guy’s mother, so Naruto thought diplomacy was worth a shot for a change.

 

“My name is Gaara and I’m going to kill you.” Gaara raised his splayed hand and Naruto knew that wasn’t a good sign.

 

“Come on, I’m sorry about the rock. I didn’t have any practice kunai…”

 

No more words, Gaara stared for a moment longer and then clenched his fist. The sand covered Naruto’s face and then crushed him.

 

Temari averted her eyes while Kankuro shut his. They both knew better than to actually turn their heads with their father there. He kept telling them they had to forge strong hearts so they had to witness what the demon that killed their mother was capable of.

 

Baki looked stony as ever, more than used to both his student’s and his commander’s behaviours by now.

 

Gaara looked peeved, maybe even downright angry. That was unusual following one of his killings, Temari thought. Normally this was the one time they could tell him to do anything, when his bloodlust had been sated temporarily. Now he looked worse than ever.

 

She stared at the scene and tried to work out what was so wrong to upset her little brother.

 

“What’s up with Gaara? He looks pissed.” Kankuro eloquently surmised.

 

“I don’t know. Something’s not right.”

 

She stared for a moment longer and then it clicked, “It’s the blood. Whenever he performs his Sand Burial technique, blood flies everywhere.” More than once she had needed to take a shower because she had been standing too close to her baby brother. Blood stains were impossible to get out of silk once they were set, sadly.

 

Both teens looked to their elders but they seemed less interested in why the youngest Sand Sibling was so discontent, in fact they had started off towards the Kazekage tower, discussing the reason for this display.

 

“What should we do?” Kankuro asked, keeping one eye on Gaara as he shifted his sand about to find either the blood or the now missing husk.

 

“Do you think he managed to escape somehow?” She asked.

 

“You saw that match, right? Kid couldn’t have been more than an academy drop out. There’s no way he got out of that technique in time. Plus, do you think father would have let him go if he did?”

 

She agreed with that. Still, this left the problem in front of them. “I was hoping he would be in a good enough mood I could get him to shampoo his hair tonight.”

 

“Good luck with that.” Kankuro said with a grim smile. They had been left in charge of their little brother since they were teamed up, which essentially boiled down to feeding him, staying out of his way when he was in a bad mood, and making sure he looked after himself. And doing his laundry.

 

Try telling a homicidal demon-host to do his own laundry. That had been tried by his last caretaker before it was decided Gaara would automatically graduate to a Genin and was his teammates’/siblings’ problem.

 

Their first task had been to clean up the last carer.

 

“Nothing to be done about it now. Let’s leave him here and get something to eat. He won’t be hungry until later anyway. We’ll get him something on our way back he can have tonight.” He said.

 

“We’re going to have to come back and get him afterward, you know. When he’s like this I don’t like leaving him out in the open. Someone might wander by too close. You remember that guy two months ago.”

 

“That painter?”

 

“Yeah. He walked through Gaara’s favourite play park and got crushed because he didn’t see him sitting there. And he’s in a much worse mood today.”

 

“Okay, we can come and see if he’ll move in a couple hours.”

 

“I have some spare money from the stipend this week. I’ll get him a cactus as well. That might cheer him up a bit.”

 

“He’s got enough cactuses.”

 

“Cacti.” She corrected with a smile, swinging her fan onto her back. “And I’d like to hear any better ideas.”

 

“I don’t have anything, I just don’t want to bump into another one of them when I clean his room.”

 

“Like you ever clean his room!” She accused, smiling again. “What are you in the mood for?”

 

“Anything but ramen. It’ll just remind me of that guy.” Kankuro smirked. He’d always had the darker sense of humour.

 

They set off, trying to move their minds and their conversation temporarily away from their troubled little brother still stood rooted to his spot in the training ground, staring at his sand as it continued to shift and spasm above his head.

 

“So, what _do_ you think happened to that guy? No blood is weird, but no body left over is inexplicable.” Temari said.

 

“Did you see the kid’s hair and skin? Maybe he had some sort of bloodline. Maybe he was made of stone or something.”

 

“That would explain why father bothered giving him to Gaara. Whatever was supposed to happen, I don’t think it did.”

 

“Whatever.” Kankuro dismissed. It didn’t matter anymore. “Let’s get Barbecue.”

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Mother was unhappy. She protected him and he killed the pest for her but there was no blood.

 

There was supposed to be blood.

 

Even Temari and Kankuro agreed there was supposed to be blood and they were fools. The day after that boy failed to feed mother, he felt the need rising again and went for a walk.

 

He had happened across a trader from outside of the village, which Baki had told him were better prey for some reason, so he decided to kill him. The man screamed, Gaara laughed, mother roared, and the sand imploded. But there was still no blood.

 

It was like what he imagined a bad dream would be like.

 

He told Temari to explain it to him, and then Baki, since they would usually know something, even if they were fools, but they were more useless than ever. He tried explaining his problem to Kankuro but he was never any help.

 

The out-of-town trader had left a husk, but it was dried out completely and his sand was still thirsty.

 

It made no sense.

 

He destroyed two buildings because he had a headache and one of the Kazekage’s men appeared. He might have been an assassin or just a scout, but he killed him too and it still wasn’t working. How could he prove his existence if there was no blood?

 

Mother was mad at him too. The pain wouldn’t go away until he fed her and he needed blood to do that. He tried one last time, killed another weakling, and when the same non-result occurred, he ground his hand against his throbbing temple and tried to stay calm. The Kazekage would send more people to kill him if he lost control again.

 

His team had stopped taking missions because he couldn’t be trusted not to kill clients of civilians. He was being followed all of the time to make sure he didn’t attack any more innocent bystanders.

 

His idiot brother and useless sister were bothering him about something in the afternoon of the fourth day after that gnat had placed the second curse on him and stolen blood from mother forever. He had decided to discard the sand he had been carrying for over a year and a half since it had to be the problem.

 

The sand was supposed to be an extension of mother but it wasn’t and it was greedily drinking all of mother’s blood. Still, it was a waste to throw away sand he had saturated with chakra for so long.

 

He unclipped his gourd, silencing his teammates, and let it smash on the floor under its own weight. He walked to the other end of the courtyard so he wouldn’t accidentally collect any of the same faulty sand in his new gourd.

 

“It’s going to be okay, Gaara. Right, Kankuro? I’m sure it will be fine now, so please stay calm.” Temari would not shut up.

 

With a look at them both, Gaara stopped the kabuki idiot from saying anything. Why did he keep them around?

 

He would reconsider that question after he got this problem sorted. He wouldn’t want to waste their deaths if they couldn’t even please mother with them. They would be somewhat more formidable than other weaklings, much better quality sacrifices.

 

Temari and Kankuro had seen that look in Gaara’s eyes before; the look that said he was considering whether or not they would be fun to kill. It was usually a good indicator that they should take an extended mission outside of the village for a couple of weeks without him.

 

They watched him gather sand from the ground to make into a new weapon but their eyes were drawn back to the other end of the yard, to where he had dropped his gourd and where the discarded sand was now shifting. Being a windy country, it could be dismissed as the sand simply settling, but with the troubles their little brother was having and how erratic he was on a good day, they split their attentions in case today their teammate had finally settled on killing them both.

 

Gaara was focussing on his new sand, trying to force as much of his and mother’s chakra into it at the outset so it wouldn’t slow him down if he needed to defend himself from assassins tonight since he was probably going to have to defend himself from assassins tonight…

 

Wait, he heard sand moving and it wasn’t him…

 

He snapped around, fear painting his expression, just as the mound of sand had ceased repeatedly settling. It was silent and still in the courtyard, even the wind had slowed. With a glance to make sure his intrusive team members weren’t doing anything, which they assuredly weren’t for their own sakes, he approached his old sand, pulling his new batch on with him.

 

The first fleck of gold he saw in the mound and he would destroy everything within a mile. He’d suspected the Kazekage’s technique of being behind his troubles. All of his troubles, but especially the blood disappearance.

 

Something was emerging from the mound now, but what could it be…?

 

It didn’t make sense. If things didn’t start making sense soon, he would let mother come out and deal with it.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Naruto had never liked dark cramped spaces. He had been locked in closets a fair few times when he was in the Academy, and after his time in that prison (or was it a laboratory?), that claustrophobia had been kicked into high gear. Anything that reminded him of that place made his adrenalin surge and his desire to flight kick in.

 

Sadly, when the sand had finished covering his face, blocking from view the crazed malice in that creepy redhead’s expression, Naruto was in no position to run. All he could do was squirm in his binds and wait for the match to be called, for his loss to be assumed, and for the technique to let him out.

 

Naruto didn’t feel the sand crush his body into nothing. It was too fast for his brain to perceive. One second he was cramped and struggling, and then all was darkness.

 

Naruto thought he was dead. It wasn’t like his delirium in the desert where he was just suffering and pitying himself, here he felt like he was in void, inarticulate and ephemeral. He could barely string together thoughts, taking an eternity to piece together a working cognition: that he was nowhere. He didn’t have a body, but since he had no eyes with which to check this state, it was still only a theory.

 

Over the course of a couple days of eternity, Naruto began to piece together more thoughts, almost an intact consciousness. But still his placeless insubstance continued.

 

Another day of eternity and he began to get vague sensations of light and heat, all so obscured it was like being carried out into the sun with one’s eyes closed. And then came physical sensation, of shifting and moving, but without any point of reference.

 

He was still so thirsty. It wasn’t like his time in the desert, it was a cold thirst where he knew he wanted to drink but did not _need_ to.

 

With the introduced external reference points, Naruto could keep track of the time better, so his many eternities became minutes and hours with events to fill them.

 

It was still boring as hell, clinging to these small and intangible sensations.

 

He tried to exert himself, to figure out what he could do in this dim afterlife, the latest one. He had gone from his cage hell, to his desert hell, to this dark void hell, and he was starting to get pissed off. Demon or not, traitor to his village or not, he did not deserve to go from one hell to another.

 

Let him at least stick with one and be done with it.

 

And then came a splash of… water? Something like that. He couldn’t drink it because he didn’t seem to have a mouth, but letting it wash over him was a massive relief. And then it happened again and again, always preceded by the feeling that he was being moved.

 

The more he tried, the more he felt like he was moving something, that when he exerted his will he was rewarded with the same sensation of action. Maybe he had just been injured by that red-haired freak?! He was probably in some hospital recovering or something like that.

 

And then it came. It felt like a weight had been taken off his him, that ropes were no longer binding his arms and his legs and his chest. A restriction he didn’t even know he had been under was gone and suddenly he felt like he could move more than ever.

 

He did what he had been doing, so much easier now, and tried to make some semblance of a real movement and it worked!

 

He tried to stand up, which was hard because he had to remember what it was like to have legs and to be able to move them. It pained him to know that if it had been Sasuke or Shikamaru, they probably would have been able to pull themselves together in a second.

 

Thinking was never going to be Naruto’s greatest strength. His indomitable will might be, though.

 

But the more he forced himself, the more he felt himself reassert, becoming solid and _real_ again.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Gaara watched the sand crumble and build, as if there were some object beneath the small pile trying to push itself to the top. And then the sand, his sand, gained cohesion and was able to build until it was a pile as tall as Gaara. It stopped there. Another look towards the other two to make sure they had nothing to do with this farce proved they were just as dumbfounded.

 

The pillar shifted and then started to crumble in areas that revealed finer details, details that looked distinctly human.

 

Gaara was one step away from killing this interloper and then the last of the sand fell away, leaving a perfectly formed human figure, the colour faded into it and Gaara’s outstretched, waiting hand dropped to his side.

 

There stood a boy, drenched in blood, with hair a red as his own and it all made sense. Gaara was his mother’s child, and his mother was in the sand. He had fed blood to mother and she had created someone else. Logically…

 

“Otouto.” Gaara said, looking at the newly birthed boy from out of the sand, his newborn brother.

 

“What did he just say?” Kankuro whispered, not trusting his ears. Temari just watched avidly, her hand reaching behind herself to her fan in case he was hostile.

 

“What did you say?” Naruto asked, woozy from his transformation.

 

Gaara stepped forward, bug-eyed and cautious.

 

“Um, what happened?” Naruto asked, looking around. Suddenly the boy who tried to kill him was staring at him even more creepily than he had been before and walking up to him. Was that whole thing a Genjutsu, had he dreamed being in that void?

 

“Brother.” Gaara said, putting his hand against Naruto’s chest definitively.

 

Naruto squirmed at the strangely intimate touch, and tried to work out why this weirdo, who he had only met today (or possibly four days ago) was asserting they were brothers.

 

“You’ve got me confused with someone else. I just got here.” Naruto laughed, rubbing the back of his head and trying to diffuse some of the tension that was seeping out of the psycho in front of him. His hand came away covered in the remnants of blood his hospital issue clothes seemed to be saturated in. Gross.

 

“Look, I’m just going to go and ask the Kazekage if I can take my test again with someone else. I suck with Genjutsu, you know?” He took a step straight back, out of the weirdo’s reach and looked to see where his future employer had moved to. How long had he been under that illusion?

 

Now that he was really looking, wasn’t he in a different training field? And why was he covered in what he could only assume was blood? Another shudder passed through him. He needed a bath pronto, preferably before he found Kazekage-sama.

 

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Kankuro asked, not able to tear his eyes away from the spectacle playing out. Gaara had just initiated physical contact with someone, which Kankuro had not seen since Uncle Yashamaru had been killed. And why was Gaara calling this strange ramen kid ‘Brother’. Hell, he didn’t even call Kankuro brother; it was usually just some generic insult or glaring at him.

 

“Don’t ask me why, but I think Gaara believes that guy is our brother.”

 

“What? Why would he think that?” Sure, Gaara was emotionally stunted and a bit naïve, but he wasn’t stupid and his delusions were pretty focussed.

 

“I just told you I don’t know why.” She ground out. “Wait, it couldn’t be because that kid’s hair is red, could it?”

 

“It _is_ the same shade, but it’s just hair. Although, he did come out of the sand. You know how Gaara is about his sand.”

 

“So should we tell him or let that guy do it?” She asked.

 

“Leave it with that guy. It’s his problem; let Gaara kill him.”

 

“It’s a shame. Somehow the guy survives being crushed by Gaara and now this.” She sighed.

 

“Some people just have no luck.” Kankuro sighed as well. So much for team training today… It had been a long shot to begin with since Gaara had been in that mood.

 

Gaara had let his hand drop down and was now circling around his object of interest. His little brother had been born  out of the sand so they were family, not like the Kazekage and his teammates who were corrupt and wanted him dead. Mother loved him and had given him a brother.

 

What was he supposed to do with him? He wasn’t supposed to kill him, Gaara assumed. What else did one do with someone?

 

Wait, where was he going?

 

Naruto was seriously freaked out. He was tempted to just ditch this village for a nicer one, with less psychopaths and a more agreeable climate. One that was suited to sustaining life, unlike this country’s.

 

“Stay here, Otouto.” Gaara commanded. He still needed to figure out what brothers did.

 

“Look, Gaara or whatever your name is, I’m not your brother, okay?” Naruto was losing his patience. The freak could stare at him with all of his malice and pent up crazy, but he was done here.

 

Gaara tilted his head. Why was his brother saying he wasn’t his brother?

 

A look at Temari and Kankuro proved it was a confusing statement. Or they were just idiots, which was equally likely.

 

His brother was walking away and when Gaara stepped forward, his brother jumped forward, aiming for a roof. Gaara’s first instinct was to send out his sand to destroy the fleeing target. He caught his brother’s leg in his sand and automatically crushed it. After the moment had passed and he was dragging the absconder back to him, he realised he should not have maimed his brother either.

 

He thought hard about what family meant but all he had was mother, and the other ones who hated him.

 

Temari and Kankuro had watched the rejection with resignation, and then when the boy tried to flee they already knew how it would end. When the sand crushed his leg, they winced and then they started thinking of what to do with the rest of their days. Temari was thinking about polishing her fan casing, and Kankuro was calculating how much makeup he had left at home and if he needed to buy another pot from that smirking salesgirl.

 

“He’s not screaming.” Kankuro observed. “First there’s no blood or body, and now he’s not in pain from a crushed leg. He’s definitely doing something.” He was ready to deploy Karasu at a moment’s notice.

 

Naruto had thought he would escape but he felt his leg get caught mid-jump. He looked back but where his leg should have been encased in sand from the thigh down, it looked like his leg had merged with the sand. He tried scraping away the sand but he seemed to have dug into where his leg was supposed to be encased. His leg had turned into sand!

 

“Oi! What did you do to my leg?!” He screamed as the sand finished pulling him back and left him hanging in front of the psycho.

 

Gaara was as perplexed as all of his (real and fake) siblings. He couldn’t turn into sand, to the best of his knowledge, so why could his baby brother do it? As he watched the dangling, flailing, yelling, teenager sway to and fro, he decided it didn’t matter.

 

He let his brother drop to the ground with some of the attached sand and it puffed out into a cloud before retracting and settling back into Naruto’s leg.

 

“What did you do to me, teme?” Naruto was confused and angry, poking his leg to make sure it was solid and glaring his accusation at the sand freak.

 

“Brother.” Gaara insisted. Teme was an insult. He had to teach his little brother things like this. Yashamaru had been his family, before the attempted murder, so he was a semi-viable role model. Plus, it seemed he couldn’t kill his little brother even if he wanted to. He was the perfect brother because he wouldn’t be killed.

 

Naruto didn’t seem to be paying attention to the scolding.

 

Gaara kicked Naruto in the head, sending him back from his seat on the ground to lie flat of his back, clutching his forehead.

 

“I am your brother. Not teme.” Gaara said. If his brother would not listen to him, Gaara would have to teach him differently from Yashamaru’s patient methods.

 

“Woah.” Kankuro commentated.

 

“Shut up, Kankuro. This is bad. We need to tell Baki-sensei or father about this before it goes any further.”

 

“Why? They seem perfect together. He might even balance Gaara out and Gaara can’t kill him. I say let him stay and get crushed a few times.”

 

“It’s not healthy!” Temari insisted. Part of her resented how easily Gaara accepted this stranger as his brother when he shunned her and Kankuro and threatened to kill them. If he weren’t so proud, Kankuro probably would have felt the same way. “Plus what if that kid starts telling Gaara to do things? We can’t just let some bloodline foreigner influence Gaara like that!”

 

“Maybe you’re right.” Kankuro conceded. “But what can we do? What could anybody do? Gaara will kill anybody that tells him any different, and unlike that guy over there, we won’t grow back!”

 

“Father will do it. He can control Gaara when he loses control.”

 

“You trust father to do it?” Kankuro whispered that part.

 

Temari glanced at Kankuro, silently agreeing with his scepticism. “What choice do we have?”

 

Naruto clutched his aching head and looked up at the dangerous and clearly crazy boy. He looked again at the spectators but the older teens seemed entirely disinterested in helping him out of this situation. He couldn’t run because he got caught, he couldn’t fight because this guy was way stronger than he was, and he couldn’t tell him the truth because apparently that earned him a kick to the head.

 

Revision: cage hell -> desert hell -> void hell -> hell populated by crazy people intent on driving him insane too.

 

All he needed was a hell where he was chased by ghosts and he would have bingo.

 

He stood up again and slumped his shoulders. There was no avoiding this. He tried to remember the guys name again.

 

“So, what now, Gaara?” Naruto asked politely. Clearly teme was a taboo word from now on. Thank gods Sasuke wasn’t here.

 

Gaara leaned forward and slapped him around the side of the head. “Brother.” It hadn’t been a curse word so he wouldn’t kick his learning little brother in the head this time, Gaara thought.

 

Naruto stared at this deluded redhead and considered slugging him for slapping him, but that gourd sat on his back warned him against it.

 

“Right… so, what now, onii-san?” This was demeaning.

 

Gaara considered. He had taught his little brother a valuable lesson about swearing and taught him to call him brother, so next he should…

 

He should take him to a bath house. Yashamaru used to make him clean up after he got dirty, and Temari insisted that he clean all of the blood off of himself at regular intervals, so that was what they would do.

 

“You need to bathe. Come with me.” Gaara walked in a random direction since he did not know where any bath houses were. He usually showered at home.

 

Naruto still wanted to protest, against both this situation and the fact that he was supposed to follow orders, but he had to admit that he would indeed like to have a bath.

 

“He’s taking him to a bath house.” Kankuro was stunned.

 

“You keep an eye on them, make sure he doesn’t say anything suspicious to Gaara and I will alert father.”

 

“I have to watch Gaara play house?”

 

“Yes. And have a bath too while you’re there.” She commanded, leaving immediately. That kabuki costume was dramatic (that’s what Kankuro insisted, anyway) but it didn’t have much in the way of ventilation.

 

He frowned and followed after his brother and step-brother (?). He caught up after they passed a street with a cheap place, correctly assuming Gaara did not know where he was leading them.

 

Naruto had begun flagging behind, possibly attempting to slip away while Gaara was distracted with searching but Gaara noticed and grabbed his wrist tightly, pulling him along and making the bones in his wrist creak and grind together.

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep up!” He pleaded, trying to retract his arm from the crazy boy’s vice-like grip.

 

“Hey, pst, isn’t there anything you can say to him?” Naruto asked the kabuki guy after Gaara had released him.

 

“No, afraid not. Gaara doesn’t listen to me or anyone. You’re stuck with him until he works out what’s going on and kills you.” The way he said it with a smile made Naruto turn green.

 

Suddenly playing along seemed like an even more palatable option.

 

With Kankuro steering them, they soon arrived at a bath house, and while Gaara and Naruto were getting changed and collecting their bath towels, Kankuro had warned the proprietor to clear any regulars he wanted repeat business from out of the building. When Naruto and Gaara stepped in, the baths were empty.

 

Naruto was glad to be free of his bloodied garments and to wash his hair. He showered first but kept one eye open to make sure his abductor wasn’t up to anything. Feeling his hair free up and going back to its soft, clean state was lovely.

 

In a mirror nearby he could finally confirm that it was white, under all of the blood. Finally seeing himself for the first time in…however long, was a strange feeling. Since he had been in the cage, this was the first chance he’d had to see his grey skin and his white hair together. His burns were gone, which was nice, but the difference from his old appearance was startling.

 

When he had finished scrubbing himself, partly to see if they grey could come off, he settled into the bath. They kept the baths here a lot cooler than in Konoha, which was a blessing in this weather.

 

The kabuki guy entered, having ditched the stage costume, and proceeded to follow their lead, even washing off the cool war paint.

 

“So, what’s your name?” Naruto asked kabuki-guy.

 

“Kankuro. I’m Gaara’s and Temari’s brother.” He flatly stated. He didn’t want to converse with a condemned man.

 

“Wait, so he’s done this before?” He jerked his thumb towards Gaara who was methodically washing himself. Naruto thought he saw the redhead’s mouth silently counting his scrubs.

 

“No, he’s actually our brother.”

 

“Great…” Naruto said. “So, what’s his deal? Couple kunai short of a pouch?” Thinking was not Naruto’s strength and neither was tact.

 

Kankuro scowled. It may be true but he would not sit by and let people talk crap about his brother. “He’s not crazy,” He started, doubting that assessment, “he’s just… he’s had to deal with a lot of stuff. He’s still gonna kill you, you know.”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” Naruto grumbled.

 

“So, what’s your deal, Ramen-kun? You got a bloodline or what?”

 

“Ramen-kun?” Naruto asked. How did this guy know he loved ramen?

 

“Menma in ramen.” Kankuro said shortly, tipping a bucket over his head to wash away the suds.

 

“Oh.” Naruto nodded, actually quite liking the nickname. It was better than Menma.

 

“So, what about your ability? You suck but that was a pretty useful technique; where did you learn it? I’ve never heard of another village specialising in sand techniques.”

 

Naruto was pissed at the casual dismissal of his skills, and said, “Dunno, it just happened. I was just fighting him, and next thing I know…”

 

Kankuro snorted. He was sure his father would be able to get a more elaborate answer out of him.

 

“So why am I his brother? I assume he doesn’t do this with all of his attempted murder victims?”

 

“Well, there aren’t many attempts still running around, but it’s probably because of your sand thing and also all that blood that’s in your…”

 

Naruto sighed, “That’s it? Jeeze. That’s just my luck. What the problem now?” Naruto noticed Kankuro had stopped paying attention and was now looking behind him. There he found those black-rimmed eyes staring at him again, totally focussed on him.

 

“Shit.” Kankuro grunted.

 

“What?” Naruto asked.

 

“Your hair’s not red anymore!”

 

“You can’t be serious!” Naruto saw the look on Gaara’s face and knew it was serious. “Have you considered medicating him?” He whispered.

 

Gaara stalked forward, walking right up to the freshly cleaned and de-blooded Naruto who was paralysed in fear, and grabbed his head in both his hands. He turned Naruto’s head this way and that, looking for some streak of red left over.

 

Sadly Naruto was no slouch and had done a good job washing his hair.

 

“It’s white.” Gaara said. “It should be red. You need more blood.” He said. “Kankuro.”

 

Kankuro nearly jumped out of his skin when Gaara turned on him. “H-hold on, Gaara. I’m your brother, too, right?”

 

Gaara glared at him but didn’t immediately attack or call the sand from his gourd sat out in the changing room. Kankuro took shallow, unnoticeable breaths and thanked the god of puppets that he didn’t have to call Karasu in here, sat next to Gaara’s gourd and unlikely to provide much protection in a straight fight with his little brother.

 

“Uh, I can make it red and it won’t come out with water!” He bargained.

 

“You won’t need to use blood?” Gaara asked, sounding unconvinced.

 

“It will make his hair permanently red.” He said. Or semi-permanently, but good enough, Kankuro thought.

 

Gaara considered this and then let go of Naruto’s head and slipped into the bath. “Do it now or I’ll kill you.” He glared again.

 

Kankuro sighed, resenting his brother openly, and climbed out of the tub, wrapping his towel around him as he went to hurriedly change. He didn’t have long by the sounds of it.

 

As he rushed out of the changing room, towel still draped over his clothed shoulder he found himself surrounded by his father’s elite forces.

 

“Hold!” One shouted, which Kankuro was thankful for as the kunai aimed at him were lowered.

 

“Kankuro, where are you going?” Temari shouted, coming from the back, looking upset. “I told you to stay with them!”

 

“Gaara’s about to go nuts! That idiot ramen kid washed the blood out of his hair and now Gaara confused or something. I have to go and buy some hair dye or he’s gonna go on a rampage again.” Kankuro was desperate to get running, but with his sister, and probably his father there, he would wait until cooler heads agreed.

 

Temari wasn’t sure. Maybe this would be a good chance to extract the stranger before he got his hooks in any deeper. With this many Jounin around they could limit Gaara’s damage, probably less than five casualties.

 

“Go. Bring some fresh clothes as well.” Rasa ordered him, appearing as well.

 

“Yes, sir.” Kankuro went running.

 

“Go in and take Kankuro’s place.” The Kazekage ordered.

 

“But, sir…it’s a bath house. It’s single sex…” She wouldn’t outright refuse an order but she was hoping he had overlooked that simple fact.

 

“Irrelevant. Stay clothed but monitor them.” He said, an edge to his voice sending her running in the opposite direction to Kankuro, into the bath house where the owner was cowering under the desk.

 

“You should go.” She told him. If he was lucky, the man might still have a livelihood to return to at the end of the day. He went scampering off.

 

Sadly there were no Gaara insurance policies in Suna anymore.

 

She steeled herself. She lived with two boys so it shouldn’t be such a shock, but she still had to run through the procedures of insubordination in her head before she could bring herself to walk into the baths.

 

“Ah!” Naruto spotted Gaara’s sister enter, fully clothed, and suddenly the psychopath still staring at him like an errant cockroach jumped to number two on his list of immediate concerns. “There’s a girl in here! You shouldn’t be in here!” He screamed.

 

Gaara reluctantly turned his head and when he saw his sister there he turned back.

 

Naruto wasn’t sure if Gaara’s lack of concern was because of the familial ties or because of the craziness in the family, but he still didn’t want a girl to watch him sit in the bath.

 

Temari scowled. This could be a manipulation to get rid of her, but the way this kid was freaking out, she was getting the sense that he was something less than a master manipulator. He was an idiot.

 

She leaned against a far wall, staying as disinterested as she could while keeping an adequate watch.

 

She composed a list of ‘Things she would rather be doing instead of watching her little brother and his captive/adopted brother bathe’:

  1. Watching Kankuro eat.
  2. Going clothes shopping with those vapid dropout girls from the academy.
  3. Acting as her father’s personal guard for another month-long mission.



 

“Can you turn around? I want to get out.” ‘Menma’ gingerly said.

 

Temari turned her head so she could still see him in her peripheral.

 

Naruto glared but knew this was the best she would do. He tried to stand and grab his towel but Gaara said, “Not yet. Wait until Kankuro has returned.”

 

“But I’m pruning!” Naruto whined, waving his shrivelled hands in Gaara’s face and failing to elicit any response. He dropped back into the water and sulked.

 

He just had to wait until they met with the Kazekage and this whole mess would be sorted out. He would take his chances out in the desert again if he had to, anything to get away from the crazies.

 

“I don’t suppose there’s anything you can say to him?” Naruto asked Temari. Gaara didn’t so much as twitch when he was addressed so dismissively.

 

Temari didn’t bother replying, she just snorted.

 

“Yeah, I thought so.” Naruto slumped back onto the bath’s edge. At least he got to enjoy some time when his skin was not totally dry. He wished they would top up the bath a little, though. It was starting to look as if someone had let the plug out. It was at least five inches shallower now.

 

He got bored after four minutes of silence so he made the mistake of trying to entertain himself. Cupping his hands together, he made a little squirt of water shoot out of them. Satisfied that his power and aim were still on top form, he shifted a little, found his mark, and fired his little jet of water into Gaara’s face.

 

Expecting the dead-eyed stare to turn into creased brows and a smile, Naruto understood the scale of his miscalculation when instead of mirth Gaara’s face looked enraged.

 

“It was a joke! A joke!” He backpedalled a couple of feet and grew very nervous.

 

When Gaara stood up, looking way too angry for the slight involved, Naruto knew drastic action was called for.

 

“I’m sorry, onii-san!” He bowed his head. Looking up, he saw Gaara blink and the rage fade from his eyes.

 

Gaara sat back down, mollified apparently, for the moment.

 

Temari had watched the same events and she couldn’t believe it. The kid messed with Gaara, got him angry, and he didn’t even get attacked. Maybe this was a good sign.

 

“Don’t forget to wash behind your ears, Gaara.” Temari said. This was a good test of his mindset right now. Perhaps the kid would be a good influence on her little brother’s temperament.

 

“Shut up Temari or I’ll kill you.” He called without looking at her.

 

She sighed. No change, then. Maybe she should try dying her hair…

 

“Temari, are you decent?” Kankuro shouted from the other side of the door.

 

“Of course I’m decent. Get in here!” She shouted back at him testily.

 

He crept in with his hands over his eyes, just in case. She strolled up to him and punched him in the arm. “Idiot.” She sniped.

 

“Sorry!” He said, looking to see his brother and the foreigner where he’d left them and Temari fully clothed, thankfully.

 

“I got the dye and some clean clothes for the kid. You can go now.” He told his sister.

 

“Finally.” She walked straight out.

 

“Change his hair back. Now.” Gaara said.

 

Patience was to Gaara as thinking was to Naruto.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Hold on a second.” Kankuro dropped the bag with the spare clothes in, and started reading the instructions.

 

“Now.” Gaara repeated, unwilling to deal with Kankuro’s stupidity.

 

“Okay, okay!” He said, holding up his hands to placate his high-strung brother. “Come on, then, Ramen-kun.”

 

Naruto looked back at Gaara to make sure he was allowed to leave the bath now, and did so.

 

Wrapped in his towel, he sat on a stool and waited while Kankuro finished reading the instructions and took out the pair of gloves.

 

“It should last about a month, I think.” Kankuro whispered. Kid would probably be dead by then, but just in case.

 

“Thanks.” Naruto mumbled. He wasn’t wild about having his hair dyed red, but since his hair wasn’t the right colour anyway, it didn’t really matter. Maybe he could dye it back to his cherished blond when this was all over.

 

Gaara got out of the bath and watched him silently as the dye was applied. For an impatient boy, he could stand very still.

 

“You’re gonna have to wait for a couple hours while it sets. Then wash it again. It says you’re not supposed to wash your hair so soon before dying it so it might not last as long.” Kankuro pulled the gloves off and washed off the small amount that had reached his wrists.

 

“Otouto.” Gaara said, admiring the red colouring again.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m your otouto again. Happy now?” Naruto griped.

 

“Happy?” Gaara did not understand the question.

 

Naruto rolled his eyes and pulled the ruined white towel from his shoulders now that the dye wasn’t going to run any more.

 

“We’ve got time to kill. Kazekage is waiting outside for when we’re done, but you’ll have to get dressed first.”

 

“He’s going to wait for hours while I’m getting my hair done?” And Jiji used to bemoan how little free time he had when Naruto wanted to go to Ichiraku’s with him.

 

“He’s waiting to make sure Gaara doesn’t go on another killing spree.”

 

“A killing spree?!” Naruto looked back but the unassuming natural redhead was still standing there, staring. “What is his deal, really?”

 

Kankuro considered it, but he couldn’t go spreading village secrets, even ones that were known to every villager, with a suspicious infiltrator. “The Kazekage may or may not tell you. His choice, not mine.”

 

“Wait, isn’t he your dad? Why do you call him Kazekage?” Naruto thought it was strange, but it was not like he had any experience with which to compare it.

 

Kankuro grunted, avoiding answering that. “So, what’s _your_ deal? You showed up out of nowhere and everything.”

 

“Uh…Long story. Not very interesting, really.” He laughed it off a little.

 

“Gaara, if you want to get dressed, I’ll keep an eye on him.” Kankuro offered, if only to get his brother to change out of that towel and into his clothes before he caught a cold.

 

“Lose him and I will kill you.” Gaara said, turning and going to change.

 

“Sure.” Kankuro waved him off.

 

“Does he always do that?” Naruto asked.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Threaten to murder you and your sister.”

 

“If he’s in a bad mood, maybe. We try not to take it to heart. It’s just how he is. I mean, he kills people, but so far he’s not really tried to kill us so we figure it’s just how he communicates.”

 

“Uh huh.” Oh yeah, crazy family strikes again. “I don’t suppose you might let me run away now?”

 

“Not a chance. Gaara hasn’t tried to kill me yet, but I’m not going to take any risks. Just bear with it. You might live at the end of this. Just don’t try filling his head with any ideas.”

 

“What kinds of ideas? I can’t even tell that psycho I’m not related to him!”

 

“Don’t call him that!” Kankuro would have beaten the shit out of this impertinent kid if he didn’t know what Gaara would do to him.

 

“Sorry!” Naruto had forgotten he was speaking to Gaara’s brother.

 

“So… you want to join Suna?” Kankuro asked after a prolonged, awkward silence.

 

“Well, yeah. That was the whole point of the test, right?”

 

“The test, yeah…” Kankuro didn’t think it was prudent to mention that Naruto had been sent to his death.

 

Gaara walked back in, clothed and his gourd strapped to his back. “I’m back.” He announced redundantly.

 

“Yeah…welcome back…?” Naruto said. What did the guy want? A parade? He’d been gone for five minutes.

 

They lapsed into another uncomfortable silence until Naruto couldn’t bear it any more. “What do you like doing, Gaara?”

 

Gaara seemed surprised by this question, and then thoughtful at the question itself. Enjoyment was a state akin to happiness brought on by a pleasing activity.

 

“I like killing strong people and taking missions.” He said.

 

“I figured that much out, but what else do you like?” Naruto was hoping there was some humanity to the guy. Gods! Naruto was supposed to be the demon and Gaara was making him seem like the most well adjusted boy on the continent.

 

“I…I don’t like anything.”

 

“You like cacti, don’t you, Gaara?” Kankuro chimed in.

 

“Shut up, Kankuro. I grow them. I do not enjoy them.”

 

“Why do you grow cactuses, then?” Naruto asked.

 

“Because I want to.”

 

“Right…” Naruto deflated. “Do you have any hobbies? …other than the killing and missions.”

 

“Hobbies…” Gaara considered this; social or personal activities performed in an effort to attain enjoyment or social gains. He did not care what people thought of him, and he only enjoyed one thing. “I look at the sky.” He didn’t actually enjoy stargazing but he did it frequently without purpose or aspiration.

 

“Hey I like watching clouds too!” Naruto agreed. He’d done it with Shikamaru and Chouji a handful of times and it was kind of fun. It was the most fun he could have while sitting still, he believed.

 

“Clouds.” With the clear blue skies of Kaze, cloud gazing was less common here, but Gaara was familiar with the concept. It sounded less appealing. “Stars are better.” He stated. There were many constellations to look at, and it was something to do at night while other people slept.

 

“Oh, hey, yeah, stars. Cool.” Naruto said lamely. “What do you like to eat?”

 

“Salted ox tongue.” Gaara said.

 

“Ew.” Naruto hoped this was Gaara’s latest eccentricity and not what he should expect of Suna’s culinary proclivities. He looked at Kankuro and he didn’t seem fazed. Turning back to Gaara, he asked, “Have you ever tried ramen?”

 

“Did you seriously name yourself that because you love ramen?” Kankuro asked.

 

“Other way around.” Naruto smiled. Actually sort of true.

 

“It is fine.” Gaara said. He did not really care for most foods except for one or two favourites.

 

“It’s kind of expensive here. You’ll get used to the local delicacies eventually.” Kankuro said. The ‘if you live’ went unsaid.

 

Naruto was flagging. The thought that he couldn’t eat ramen all the time sapped the last of his enthusiasm for this conversation.

 

It took another hour before he worked up the wherewithal to speak again. “You’re both Genin, right?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. Although, in terms of combat, Gaara is way about Genin. Temari and me are the best Genin in Suna as well.” Kankuro wasn’t supposed to be letting any information about the village slip out, but he couldn’t help but brag.

 

“Really? Cool!” Of all the people Naruto could meet in the village, it was the strongest Genin. Even if they were bat shit insane, one and all.

 

“Yeah. Are you really a Genin? You didn’t even last two minutes against Gaara.”

 

Naruto grumbled about that. “Well, I never passed the exam, okay? But I’m still amazing at other things. I was the best in my class at making traps and stuff.”

 

“Your class? I thought you were mentored by a nuke-nin?” Kankuro latched on to a piece of useful intel.

 

“Uh… yeah, um, I meant my class of one. So I was the top of my class at everything!” He declared this, convinced he had covered for his slip up. “Can I wash this stuff out now?”

 

“It’s supposed to stay in for another hour but the Kazekage will probably send somebody in after us soon. You don’t want to see him when he’s angry. Makes Gaara look like a…” Kankuro didn’t finish that sentence when he noticed Gaara’s brow creasing. It would so much easier to avert these faux pas if Gaara had some eyebrows.

 

Naruto gladly washed the red dye out of his hair and was left with a shade that matched Gaara’s even more closely than the blood had done. It should have come out poorly but thanks to the perfectly bleached starting colour, it was a deep crimson with only the slightest streaks of white showing through.

 

He thought it actually looked quite cool. Blond was still better, since the Fourth Hokage had blond hair, but this would do until it faded and he could look into getting a different dye. And maybe an artificial tan since all of his time in the desert had not so much as tinged his grey complexion.

 

He dried himself off, finally, and then put on the clothes Kankuro had given him. He was less than impressed to find they were a spare set of the older boy’s black cat costume, and were a size or two too big for him. He kept the hood down and tied the waist ties tight enough and followed the Suna natives outside.

 

He almost ran back in to the bathhouse when he saw the assembled high ranking shinobi collected all around the entrance. They all seemed to be watching Gaara like he was an enemy of the village waiting to strike.

 

Gaara seemed more concerned with standing next to Naruto, which Naruto could have happily done without.

 

The Kazekage was waiting there too, wearing his full robes again, and accompanied by Temari who looked annoyed, probably at the wait.

 

“Follow me.” Rasa said, watching the boy he condemned to death walking side by side with the demonic failure. He started walking to his chambers, where he could be guaranteed of privacy.

 

To say the Kazekage had been surprised to hear from Temari that Orochimaru’s experiment was still alive and Gaara believed him to be his brother would be an understatement. Still it presented as many opportunities as it did problems.

 

When they got to the Kazekage building, Rasa was satisfied that Gaara would not fly into a rage without provocation so he told his trailing Jounin to hang back outside, but remain alert. Depending on how this negotiation went, they might be needed.

 

When they reached his office, he told Kankuro and Temari to wait outside.

 

Now that it was just Gaara, the Kazekage, and him, Naruto could sense the tension in the air between these two, killing intent even. This was hatred.

 

“You have abilities you failed to disclose when you were here last.” The Kazekage accused Naruto.

 

“I didn’t know I could do it. And even now I don’t how I did it. All I remember was being caught by Gaara here, and then my leg when I got out.” Naruto rambled but from the glare he added, “Sir.”

 

“What is to stop me sending you to my research division to have you taken apart and your abilities studied?” Rasa asked, waiting for one predictable response.

 

Naruto blanched. Gaara said, “I will kill you if you touch my brother.” It was the first time Naruto had been glad to have a psycho obsessed with him.

 

“As I thought. You wish to join our forces, correct?” He addressed Naruto.

 

“Yes, sir. I really do.” He said enthusiastically.

 

Gaara interrupted, “He will be a shinobi and join my team.” Naruto thought better than to disagree about that right now, but hopefully he would get a chance to request a different team once Gaara was sent out.

 

“And Gaara wishes to keep you close to him. I will allow you to join Team Baki provisionally, with a full examination to be performed within the next three months. If you fail to follow orders or live up to this village’s standards, you will be delivered to my research division.” He spoke over whatever threat Gaara was about to utter, “And if you fail to follow orders as well, Gaara, or kill any more innocent civilians or shinobi that do not attack you first, I will have him killed first.”

 

Menma would provide a good control for Gaara, and might in fact be a worthwhile investment by his own merit.

 

Gaara stood to leave without any further ado and pulled Naruto up as well. Naruto looked back and forth between father and son, and quickly performed a deep bow. “By your leave, Kazekage-sama. I will serve you and this village with distinction and loyalty.” He pledged.

 

He turned to leave with Gaara, who he was apparently still attached to, but the village leader spoke again, “Remember this, _Menma_ , fail me and you will be reunited with the Snake that did that to you.”

 

Naruto paled as he was tugged out of the office by Gaara.

 

“So, what now?” Kankuro asked, seeing both boys still together.

 

“He is on our team now.” Gaara said simply.

 

Both of them looked at Naruto with wide eyes. Naruto blushed and bowed, “Please look after me.” He formally entreated.

 

When Gaara glared at them, they bowed back.

 

As if their team wasn’t enough trouble to begin with…

 

“So, I’m gonna go and take a look around the village. See the sights, you know. I’ll see you all later at team training.” Naruto smiled as he tried jogging away.

 

Gaara watched him take two steps, sent his sand out and crushed him again, dragging it all back into his gourd without a second thought.

 

“Gaara, what the hell are you doing?!” Kankuro shouted.

 

“He’s staying in here for now.” Gaara said, walking away, not batting an eye.

 

Inside the gourd, Naruto was aware this time and he was pissed! He would have screamed at his captor but he still didn’t have a mouth, nor could he escape. He just had to wait until he was let out or figured out a way to escape.

 

At least things were clearer this time around. He could hear muffled sounds and could see shadows moving around outside of the gourd. As soon as he was out, he was going to be having strong words with his presumptive ‘older brother’ about how to treat siblings.


	2. Teething Problems

_Three Months Ago~_

_Naruto’s adrenaline was pumping. He had the scroll like Mizuki told him, he’d even defeated the Hokage to get it; all he needed to do now was learn one of the techniques in the Scroll and he would be promoted to Genin, no matter what Iruka-sensei said. He had settled in the allotted clearing, ready to open it and get learning, when he heard twigs snapping from behind._

_Shit! Mizuki-sensei told him if he got caught before completing the test, he would flunk again and he would never get to graduate._

_“Mizuki-sensei! I’ve still got hours left!” Naruto exclaimed, caught between relieved and concerned, seeing his trusted teacher enter the clearing._

_“I’m afraid not, Naruto. There’s been a change of plans…” Mizuki grimaced._

_The silver-haired man had been waiting in his apartment for the alarm to be sounded so he could go and ‘search’ for his wayward pupil. As scheduled, Iruka had knocked on his door in a panic and demanded he help look for Naruto._

_It had all been going to plan, with the Hokage sending everyone out in the wrong direction, with Iruka calling on him; only, Iruka wasn’t looking scared or even angry, he was looking at Mizuki with confusion._

_That wasn’t part of the plan. Confusion was too close to suspicion, to knowing…_

_And then those eyes, that had dared forget what that fox did to their parents, looked into his own and Mizuki knew Iruka had seen something he didn’t like._

_Mizuki had pulled the kunai he kept by his door and plunged it straight into Iruka’s side before Iruka could voice the question on the tip of his tongue. The fool might have forgotten his hatred for the beast but they were still friends, so he had made sure it was a non-critical strike. As a bonus, discovery of a wounded man would slow down those who found Iruka more than a corpse would._

_But now his plan had been ruined, there was no time to set up an alibi with the search party for a couple of hours. He had planned to kill the brat and then come back to Konoha after dropping off the scroll to serve as a spy, but his bridges here had been burned now so it was time to head out. There was, however, a prize he could bring his patron in lieu of his talents as a spy._

_On the bright side, he had been wanting to spill the secret of the abomination’s creation for years and finally there was nothing stopping him._

_“There’s no way…” Naruto whispered._

_“Yes, brat. You’re the Kyubi incarnate and you just stole the Forbidden Scroll from Konoha. The Hokage allowed you to live in case you became useful one day but now you’re a traitor. They’ll simply kill you on sight! If you’re lucky.” Mizuki smiled widely._

_“But you told me to and…” Naruto was crying now. “I’ll tell them you…”_

_“I what? I wasn’t the one that destroyed half the village twelve years ago, I wasn’t the one that killed so many shinobi and civilians! I didn’t steal the scroll. You did that all on your own.” Mizuki was enjoying this so much he didn’t want it to end. Alas. “But that’s okay. Even a traitor like you has a chance. You don’t have to die tonight.”_

_“Really?”_

_“But not here. You have no home in Konoha anymore. The Hokage wants you dead, so does Iruka. But if you come with me, you’ll survive. My master will take you in, train you to be stronger than you could ever have become in Konoha.” Not likely._

_“Iruka hates me?” Naruto could not process this all. He thought he would be graduating tonight and becoming a respected Genin, a step closer to becoming Hokage, but now Iruka and Jiji hated him and he had to leave Konoha forever otherwise he’d be killed._

_“Of course he does. You betrayed him. But it’s okay, you don’t have to die.”_

_“Iruka-sensei would never kill me!” Naruto shouted, suddenly filled with surety._

_“Do you really believe that? Do you want to know who killed Iruka’s parents twelve years ago? Who left him an orphan? Scarred?”Mizuki stalked closer to him, “That’s right! It was you, the Kyubi no Kitsune! He’s always hated you, he just pretended not to so you would pass and leave the Academy, but you screwed that up as well. Earlier tonight, he came to my door and told me what he was going to do with you when he found you.”_

_“What?” Naruto’s watery eyes stared up at him._

_“He said he wanted the pleasure of killing you himself.”_

_It didn’t take much to convince the stupid child of his guilt or of the only remaining option, to flee with Mizuki. Dead last and gullible._

_“Hurry up, demon brat!” Mizuki called behind him, painfully aware that they only had a couple hours lead-time before an ANBU squad picked up their trail and came after them._

_They needed to run clear across Fire, then into the Land of Rivers which would buy them valuable time while the Hokage asked permission from the ambassador from Rivers for his men to pass through. It was thanks to a number of traps he had prepared on his last trip this way, and to the demon’s impressive stamina, they made it to the border of Rivers with only a few miles to spare, by his estimate._

_Naruto had been flagging, struggling to continue on after days of running, by the time they reached the Land of Rivers. Mizuki had briefly been tempted to use the brat’s dead body to slow down his pursuers but he was not quite at that stage yet. Orochimaru-sama would be furious that his cover had been blown so the Kyubi brat was necessary to mollify him._

_Better the ANBU catch him than he arrive empty-handed to Orochimaru-sama._

_Along the way, Mizuki said little to the brat following him, only peppering him with insults and reinforcing his guilt every few hours to keep him compliant. It worked, as Naruto’s shame and self-loathing kept his mind from stretching to the possibility of Mizuki’s lies._

_Nearly a week later, struggling to put one foot in front of another, Mizuki could smell the sand in the air. They had hardly stopped to sleep in the Land of Rivers, and he had even ended up carrying his living cargo for the last two days._

_He did not know how far behind them the Konoha shinobi were but the gap was surely closing. The number of men they would have sent on this retrieval mission was sure to be in the dozens so they would have been tracking him in shifts, relentlessly closing on them._

_He heard a dog barking behind them and he realised how close the hunters were now. They were less than a mile behind and he did not have the energy to pull out a burst of speed to get away again. There was only one thing left to do now. He made one last dash through the line of trees that marked the border between Rivers and Wind, and stepped onto the sand._

_While it would be supremely satisfying to kill the brat here and now with his own two hands, to watch the boy die in his last moments as a free man, it seemed too easy. Instead, he would let the boy die slowly._

_“Run, Naruto! I’ll hold them off!” Mizuki dropped the brat into the sand and turned back to face the forest._

_“What?! But…” Naruto had no idea where they were or how to survive in the desert alone._

_“They will interrogate you if they catch you. The Hokage will have to order your execution. You have to run, Naruto!”_

_Naruto heeded his cruel mentor and ran away from the greenery and into the barren wasteland. He travelled to the top of a high sand dune and perched there, low to the ground and waited. Maybe Mizuki-teme would be able to fight them off and escape, or maybe he would tell them Naruto was innocent after all and he could return home._

_Regardless, if they came after him here in the desert, Naruto would have no chance of escaping them. From this distance, Naruto couldn’t see clearly, but it looked like something hit Mizuki in the shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground. Moments later, a crowd of masked shinobi flew out of the tree line and surrounded their prey._

_A few of them were watching the surroundings but most were keeping their weapons trained on Mizuki. They stepped forward and restrained him, taking the Forbidden Scroll and safely securing it to one of their backs. They now looked like they were asking him something but Naruto didn’t hear what._

_He did here Mizuki’s answer, however;“He’s dead! I killed the Kyubi brat once and for all! Good luck finding the body, I buried it in the Land of Rivers in an unmarked grave!” Each statement was screamed at the top of his lungs._

_Naruto looked down at the scene, as the ANBU knocked Mizuki out, and realised this might save his life. But the ANBU still sent a couple of their men to search the surrounding area. Panicking, Naruto used his rued and celebrated unpredictable nature to come up with an improvised plan. Running would mean death, but if he took an idea from his teacher, he might survive. He buried himself._

_The constant wind, for which the county had been named, had covered Naruto’s tracks up the side of the dune and it would now mask where he had dug down into the sand and covered himself._

_The ANBU commander assessed the situation, “We’re heading back.”_

_“Sir, what about Uzumaki?” His lieutenant asked._

_“The boy’s tracks disappeared days ago. Mizuki has no reason to lie now. If the boy were alive, he would be with Mizuki or we would have encountered him along the way.”_

_“Permission to search the surrounding area for any signs of his survival, captain?”_

_“Granted. Search radius of one mile, be done in an hour. The Inuzuka’s nose will be no use in this wind so confine your search to visual inspection.”_

_The assigned ANBU spread out to comb through the search area and Naruto stayed buried. He stayed under his protective coating as they patrolled and visually searched. He waited as they concluded he was indeed dead. He stayed under cover until hours after they had cleared out of the country and were well on their way to delivering Mizuki back to Konoha._

_He crawled out of the sand as the sun had begun to fall towards the horizon, feeling tired and thirsty and already hating the sensation of sand against his skin._

_He was safe for the moment, but he couldn’t risk going back into the forest where the ANBU might be waiting for him so his only choice was the desert. He knew, from what little he remembered of his geography lessons, that Wind was the largest country on the continent and was all desert. He would have to hope he encountered someone or chanced upon a city or maybe an oasis, or else he was a dead boy._

_“Kami, it’s hot.” He muttered, setting off into the wastelands._

_And the worst was yet to come._

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

 _The Present Day_ ~

 

Naruto was splitting his time between lamenting the horrors that had transpired three months ago as well as all the hells that had followed between then and now, and wishing he had a mouth so he could scream profanity at the weird guy that was keeping him prisoner inside of a sand-filled gourd (for the second time that week!)

 

He had spent, as best he could tell, most of the day inside of the sand container following his meeting with the Kazekage. He was able to catch glimpses and sounds from the outside world but little of which he could actually make sense of. It seemed like Gaara had spent hours sitting in play park at one point, which couldn’t be right.

 

He wasn’t _that_ crazy.

 

…right?

 

“Gaara, I’m sure Menma is getting hungry.” Kankuro tried again to gently persuade his little brother to let their new team member out of his (protective) confinement. 

 

Gaara glared right through him, not bothering to reply beyond a slight narrowing of his eyes.

 

“Your _little brother_ won’t be happy if you don’t let him eat, Gaara. Father agreed to let him join our squad so he won’t be in any danger. With all three of us here, Menma will be safe.”

 

“No.” Gaara was petulant and Kankuro couldn’t risk a ‘tantrum.’

 

“But if you don’t feed him he might get ill. You know how your stomach hurts when you forget to eat for a few days? Menma’s stomach will start hurting soon. If he’s doesn’t get to eat or drink, he could even die from dehydration or starvation. You don’t want that, do you?”

 

Gaara stared, his expression unchanging. He did not appreciate being patronised. He was not an idiot, no matter what they thought.

 

“Any luck?” Temari asked as she walked in, still carrying a wooden spoon between her fingers. Neither of the elder Sand Siblings were adept at cooking but they made do.

 

“Well?” Kankuro redirected the question to their younger brother.

 

Neither Kankuro nor Temari held any love for Gaara’s new pet, and would sooner see the boy die than continue to influence or further their little brother’s derangement, but they needed to keep the idiot alive or else Gaara would flip out even worse than usual and their fellow Suna shinobi would be the ones to suffer and die. And the first step to keeping the boy alive was to let him get some food and water, assuming he needed such things considering he appeared to be made of sand.

 

Gaara was still mulling it over, since his expression had not evened out or gotten any fiercer, but after a couple minutes his brows rose back to their calm placement and the cork flew out of the gourd.

 

“If he is hurt you will both die.” Gaara said, dumping his sand on the living room floor. If anyone else did that it might have been inconvenient but Gaara was good at nothing if not clearing up sand. And killing people.

 

Temari and Kankuro blithely agreed to the ultimatum. It was a rarity that they went a single day without receiving a death threat from him. At this stage, the frequency of the threats had to be weighed against them never being fulfilled as they both tried to work out if Gaara really hated them (more than he hated everything else). So far they seemed to be coming out ahead.

 

From the mound of sand, Naruto rose out in the same impressive manner he had previously and immediately turned on his captor with a vein throbbing on his temple. He growled and took a menacing step forwards, his fists clenched, but restrained himself when the sight of his quarry reminded him that a head-on approach might not be the best strategy in this one situation. The probability that he would be stuffed back into that cramped container was too high to risk trying to punch the infuriating boy across his pale face.

 

“Dinner will be in fifteen minutes.” Temari said once she was sure there would be no violence. “Clear up the sand, Gaara.”

 

Gaara didn’t spare her any attention, drawing every single grain of sand into their container without moving a muscle or taking his eyes off of his little brother.

 

“Are you always going to be staring at me, or what?” Naruto asked brashly.

 

Gaara’s answer was more staring.

 

Naruto groaned.

 

Kankuro snorted but ducked out of the room when Gaara glared at him again.

 

Naruto shook out his borrowed clothes but noticed no sand had been caught in the folds. Even if black wasn’t his favourite colour (and it seemed like a bad colour to wear in the harsh desert sun to begin with) and he wasn’t big on the hood with the cat ears, Naruto had to admit Kankuro’s spare uniform was surprisingly comfortable to sit around in.

 

“Hey, Kankuro, why _do_ your clothes come with cat ears?” Naruto asked.

 

“They’re not cat ears!” Kankuro shouted from the other room.

 

Naruto smirked but refrained from mocking the typically ill-tempered older boy further. He was getting the impression that Temari and Kankuro didn’t like him all that much. And Naruto had learned, after years of living in Konoha, when someone didn’t like him. Unlike Mizuki, the pair of older Genin weren’t hiding their contempt, at least.

 

“I don’t want to go back in there again, ‘ttebayo.” Naruto said, looking Gaara directly in the (crazy) eye.

 

Gaara stared back and his nose wrinkled at the challenge. Naruto watched the redhead’s face distort into an expression that might have been termed as ‘stern’ and continued to scowl. Kankuro carried in a bowl of rice and noticed both redheads (natural and faux) had almost identical expressions. It was eerie.

 

Gaara sat down and started spooning rice into his bowl before the rest of the table had even been set or his siblings had a chance to sit down. Naruto would have reprimanded him for his poor table manners but he was too busy doing the same thing. Neither boy was used to regular family meals and neither had been taught proper table manners, though not for lack of trying on their teachers’ parts.

 

Temari didn’t bat an eye when she entered with the grilled vegetables and saw the boys already tucking in. Kankuro had the decency to still act offended at the bad behaviour but would save whatever slack Gaara would give him for a more important issue. No sense in using up the sparse good will Gaara had for them on etiquette lessons he’d forget in a day.

 

 

This Menma boy had no excuse, or at least no demon to act as an excuse. That said, with the way Gaara had been acting, and the way he was still sitting closer to the new boy than he ever had to anybody else, Kankuro decided whatever table manners immunity Gaara enjoyed would have to extend to his pet/adopted brother.

 

Naruto had eaten nothing in days but he wasn’t nearly as hungry as he thought he’d be. He had not been doing much of anything in those days, granted, but nonetheless he felt like he’d only skipped a couple meals. Maybe it was part of his ‘sand-thing’?

 

Still, he was a glutton so he devoured the overcooked rice and the _vegetables_ with gusto. There was a little… something of meat but he did not venture to guess what sort it was. It was okay but he would have killed for some of that barbecue Iruka-sensei sometimes got with him.

 

Or ramen…

 

Ramen…!

 

If there wasn’t a ramen stand in this village (a dim sign for the village, certainly), Naruto would have to learn to make it himself, or stock up on instant noodles until they took a mission to a real village.

 

Contrary to the innumerable times Naruto had imagined family dinners as he had been growing up, this dinner was less warm or jovial and more cold and harsh. Everyone just stared at their plates or glared at him, including Gaara who was supposed to be the one that wanted him here! The most he got in the way of conversation:

 

“What time did Baki-sensei say?” Kankuro said only after swallowing his mouthful.

 

“Noon.” Temari replied without glancing up from her rice.

 

Clearly they weren’t a close family. Or perhaps it was because this wasn’t a very friendly village?

 

Naruto was a keen student of family interactions back in Konoha, having spent hours observing families in parks or in restaurants or outside the Academy and once or twice through windows, and they were almost always smiling and chatting and patting each other on the head or the back. If Naruto reached to pat someone on the back at this table, he was one-hundred percent sure he would lose the offending hand.

 

If it as Gaara, he would be lucky to stop at the hand.

 

Still, as he continued eating the bad food and looking around the room, his restless mind could not stand the silence much longer and a scant five minutes into the meal he broke the silence.

 

“So, uh, you’ve been on missions before, I guess…?” Naruto started lamely.

 

“We’re shinobi, of course we go on missions.” Temari shot back, wondering if the boy was touched in the head.

 

“Right, of course. So, have you been on many?” Naruto asked.

 

“More than you, clearly.” Kankuro said, not deigning to look at him now.

 

“Right, right.” Naruto sighed. “How long have you been doing them? Missions, I mean. When did you graduate?”

 

“Two years ago.” Kankuro shared.

 

“Two years? So did you have to wait until Gaara finished to have a third member on your team?”

 

“No, he was waiting for us to graduate the training program so he could go on tougher missions.” Temari said.

 

Naruto looked over at Gaara again, who did not seem to register he was being talked about, or maybe he was just determined to ignore it. Still, it was hard to imagine that more than two years ago Gaara had been taking missions when Naruto had been… Two years ago was about the time he had finally hit the target with his kunai for the first time. He still couldn’t reliably hit the bulls-eye every time.

 

“What sort of missions do you guys take?”

 

“What sort?” Kankuro asked. This kid was beyond strange. It was hard to believe he was really even a shinobi. Maybe he was just a civilian with a bloodline?

 

“You know, do you track people or do you take stuff from one place to another place, or do you carry messages or fight people in awesome battles…?”

 

“Awesome battles…” Temari was thinking along the same lines as her brother.

 

“We do whatever needs to be done.” Kankuro answered unhelpfully.

 

“But you’re still Genin, right, so you don’t do any of the really hard stuff, right?” Naruto had gotten it into his head over the course of this conversation that his new team members had been taking missions for at least two years now and were much further ahead in both skills and experience, so any missions he would go on with them would be much more advanced than beginners ones.

 

“Well, Genin typically start off on D-rank missions around the village. Odd jobs, construction work, anything really.” Kankuro said, sensing Naruto’s anxiety.  “But our team is special so we split out time between B-ranks and A-ranks, mostly.”

 

Temari noticed this turn in the conversation and joined in with a suppressed smirk, “Yeah, nothing too dangerous. Haven’t killed more than a dozen on a mission in over two months, I think.”

 

“Ten weeks, I would say.” Kankuro smiled.

 

Naruto went pale with the casual mention of killing. He was pretty sure he had killed, but definitely not like that, not with a smile.

 

The conversation lapsed after that and the older pair kept the small smirks on their faces as they finished off their dinners.

 

After everyone had finished eating and Gaara was looking impatient to leave the table, or impatient for Naruto to leave as Gaara would have happily walked off without a word of thanks or offer of help without his newborn brother to keep watch on, so Naruto stood also.

 

“Can I help with the dishes?” He offered, wanting to get on their good sides in any menial way he could.

 

“No.” Kankuro said, carrying the leftovers to the fridge to have for lunch tomorrow.

 

They seemed to want to be left in peace, or maybe they wanted him to take Gaara away from them, either way Naruto followed Gaara out of the dining room.

 

It was getting late and it had been one of, though probably not, _the_ strangest days of his life and he was tired. He wanted to go to sleep, but since his chances of getting away from his creepy, red-haired stalker seemed limited at best, he asked where Gaara’s room was. The look of confusion Gaara displayed was worrying, as always.

 

Naruto followed his ‘older brother’ through the spacious apartment and down a long hallway. The door at the end looked suspiciously pristine compared to the dented and scratched doorframe around it, as if it had been replaced recently. Inside was a bedroom, largely devoid of personal touches or signs it had been used. The bed looked like it had never been slept on.

 

“So, are we gonna share the bed tonight or should I just take the floor, unless you got somewhere else I can stay?”

 

Gaara looked even more perplexed by the question.

 

“Share the bed?” Gaara asked slowly, as if speaking a foreign language.

 

“I’m tired. You look like you could use some sleep too. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor tonight.” It was clear Gaara wouldn’t be leaving him on his own, either way.

 

“You don’t need to sleep.” Gaara told him.

 

“What?” Naruto asked, “Of course I need to sleep. Everyone sleeps. It’s late.” He was whining but he had had a really long day.

 

“Weaklings sleep.” Gaara told him.

 

“I do too and I’m no weakling.” Naruto declared, despite all evidence to the contrary.

 

“Mother will come for you in your sleep.”

 

“What?!” Naruto screamed. He was under the impression the Sand Siblings were orphaned so this ‘Mother’ could only be a…

 

Ghost!

 

Naruto looked about, as if the ghost was going to float through a wall at any moment.

 

Gaara felt this was a more appropriate reaction to have about sleep but still, after a few minutes the anxiety faded and otouto wobbled over to the bed and pulled back the sheets.

 

Fine. If he was going to make a fuss, otouto could waste a few hours lying on the bed, unconscious. If Mother started devouring him in his sleep, he would be there to stop it.

 

Gaara stood back and watched him lie motionless. It took a little longer for Naruto to slip into the land of dreams, knowing that the insane redhead was stood there watching him with those crazy eyes.

 

Wait, he was a redhead too now! Damn it!

 

Still, tired as he was from the day’s events, he did finally pass out for his wonderful night’s sleep.

 

For all of three hours.

 

Gaara had watched all of that time, contemplating the recurring question of what he was to do with his ignorant, defenceless and strange little brother. After three hours had gone by, he decided he would wake him up again. It seemed like more than enough and he didn’t want his precious otouto picking up bad habits from his idiot teammates. They insisted on sleeping twice that long and still acting tired when they awoke on missions. Otouto would not be lazy like them.

 

The object of this determination was less pleased to learn of Gaara’s intentions after he was nudged awake. Naruto’s eyes creaked open to see the room was dark and thought for just a moment that he had slept all night and all day, as he had once done before. It would explain why the sky was dark and why he felt so tired. Then it struck him that he had hardly had any sleep at all.

 

“What? What do you want?” Naruto mumbled, trying to climb back into the sheets.

 

Gaara tilted his head. “It is time to get up. You have slept.”

 

Naruto turned to glare at his tormentor and the worst part of the sight that met him was the honest confusion in those black-rimmed eyes. He muttered a few curse words under his breath and rolled over to sit up.

 

Looking at the clock, his sore eyes shot wide. “It’s only been a couple hours!”

 

“Three hours and seven minutes.” Gaara clarified, deciding to let his little brother’s swear words go for the moment.

 

Naruto groaned and collapsed back into the bed. “Just go to sleep or something and wait until tomorrow.”

 

“It is tomorrow. Midnight has passed.” Gaara told him, moving forwards again and collecting the thin sheet from Naruto, throwing them onto the floor.

 

Naruto’s eyes teared up and he rolled over to scream into his pillow, before Gaara pulled that too away from him. Naruto hung his head as he sat up and swivelled to set his feet back on the floor. He didn’t think he had ever been this tired in his life.

 

“What do you want?” Naruto asked, all grouch.

 

“Want?” Gaara was again visibly confused.

 

“Yeah, why’d you wake me up in the middle of the night?” Jerk.

 

“Your soul will be devoured if you sleep for too long.” Gaara warned. Otouto was just lucky he wasn’t possessed whenever he went to sleep. Still, mother had warned Gaara often that beyond possession there was the danger of his soul being eaten, not just his mind.

 

Naruto stared long and hard at his captor. This guy wasn’t just eccentric, he was totally crazy. He already knew this, but each passing interaction brought with it the renewed certainty of a deeper insanity. Why couldn’t he have been forcibly adopted by a regular person to be their brother?

 

Naruto stretched out and tried to work some blood into his limbs. “So what do you normally do this late at night?”

 

Gaara thought for a few seconds, “I watch the stars.”

 

Naruto had spent time cloud gazing before in Konoha, but unlike then, he couldn’t see any shapes in the stars. With this limitation, stargazing grew boring quickly for Naruto’s easily distracted mind, plus he nearly fell of the roof after falling back asleep. Twice.

 

Gaara watched his little brother fall asleep and roll towards the edge of the roof again. He had woken last time but this time he just rolled straight off the roof so Gaara sent his sand to catch him. Naruto woke when he was dumped back on the roof and went straight back to watching the boring night sky.

 

This sleep deprivation torture was only made worse by having nothing to concentrate on, staying right on the precipice of unconsciousness. Desperation led to inspiration, however, and Naruto jumped to his feet.

 

“Let’s have a race, Gaara!” He said this with his normal exuberance, irreverent of the late hour and the fact that his loud voice could wake the dead. Luckily the neighbours had lived next to the Demon of the Sand for long enough to ignore any shouts or screams during the nights.

 

Gaara looked at him evenly. His little brother was confusing, even compared to the normal idiocy he had to deal with on a daily basis. The newborn was energetic but insisted on sleeping like a normal human, and Gaara had not threatened to kill him, that he could recall, and yet otouto seemed to hate him. At least his little brother did not fear him like everybody else.

 

Even his teammates would not stand next to him or sit with him on the roof. 

 

Gaara sighed and got to his feet. If otouto wanted to run around Sunagakure then they would go for a run, even though he did not understand the purpose. The air was cool and the village was deserted, so it was the best time if there was such a time to go for a run.

 

“Ready. Set.” Naruto announced, getting into a starting position while Gaara simply stood up, “Go!” He called, sprinting off the roof at his top speed.

 

Gaara jumped off after him but grew concerned when he watched otouto’s back move further and further away from him. He began pushing off the roofs with more force to try and keep up but it became clear that at their fastest, his little faster was still faster than he was.

 

Naruto risked a look backwards and saw Gaara flagging half a dozen rooftops back. Perfect. He forced his burning legs to give him one last burst of speed to increase the distance again so he was out of sight of his obsessive pursuer. When he was hidden, he dropped down into the alley behind some kind of shop.

 

He would have to face the assuredly terrible music later, but until then he settled into a darkened, vacant doorway to go to sleep. It was uncomfortable and cold but he was too tired to care.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

 _Four Hours Later_ ~

 

Naruto had never been woken up by pure bloodlust before but he would say, on balance, it was one of the worst ways he had ever been roused. The sun was just rising over the village, and under that beautiful clear morning sky stood Gaara, walking towards him. Naruto was covered in a cold sweat as he watched his doom approach.

 

On second thought, he might have overplayed his hand here and worn out whatever warped affection the other redhead had for him.

 

Gaara had spent four hours frantically searching for his missing little brother, convinced he had run away from him or been killed by the Kazekage’s men or fell off a roof. When he found him sleeping, Gaara knew that the ‘race’ had all been so he could go off and sleep somewhere.

 

The familiar hatred was rising and his sand followed suit. Naruto watched this threat coming towards him and dived out of the way when the sand surged at him. He rolled and stumbled as he got back on his feet and jumped onto the roof to avoid the next strike.

 

This game of cat and mouse lasted less than a minute as Gaara was well and truly pissed, and was also using his sand to come after him. All it took was one tendril to close around Naruto’s ankle and he was soon being whisked away into his home away from home (away from home), the gourd.

 

He screamed as he was sucked in, catching the attention of a number of early risers already walking the streets, but no one thought for a second of trying to help the boy against the demon. He was beyond saving now.

 

An unforeseen benefit of this rough treatment was that Naruto was finally able to get some relatively undisturbed sleep inside the gourd. The only interruption he suffered from was the jostling he received when Gaara called out his sand to scare an uppity civilian off.

 

Naruto had made a mental note to use his time in the gourd from now on to catch up on the sleep Gaara would never peaceably give him on the outside.

 

Naruto was brought back to the world, literally and mentally, when Gaara dumped him back out of the gourd at noon for team practice. Baki had evidently used some of his (new and much appreciated) leverage to compel Gaara to attend team training and let Menma out for a while.

 

The training session started with a sparring match between Temari and Kankuro while Gaara sat back and watched. It was an impressive sight, Naruto had to admit, especially with how long they fought each other, but when that match ended and Baki took them aside to give them criticism, Naruto was starting to feel a bit left out. The feeling sunk in when he tried to listen in and Baki shooed him away. Then came team drills, which Gaara actually joined in for after Baki reiterated the Kazekage’s threat towards his little brother.

 

“What should I do, sensei?” Naruto asked.

 

“Go over there and practice your basics and don’t bother us.” Baki told him.

 

Naruto looked at his ‘teammates’ but none of them were stepping forward to include him. In fact, the older pair looked vindicated that they weren’t being forced to include their brother’s _project_.

 

Naruto wandered away from them, but stayed well within Gaara’s eye line, and tried not to look too disappointed. He went through his poorly remembered attempts at kata and wished he could practice his weapons accuracy but he didn’t have any kunai or shuriken of his own yet. After the taijutsu forms, he started on practicing his basic ninjutsu techniques. He didn’t bother with his Clone technique since it was a lost cause and frankly it had led to this absurd situation in a protracted way, but he was pretty happy with his transformation.

 

It had always been a talent of his, to change his appearance. His substitution technique was okay too, although it was never going to be his signature technique. He tried working on that for a while but without something to substitute away from, or even things to substitute with, he didn’t last long. He briefly entertained the idea of trying to substitute with Gaara or one of the other Genin but decided their approval of him would never come if he started messing with them.

 

Well, maybe if he got them, real good…

 

He would revisit that idea later if they didn’t warm up to him.

 

After an hour of the training had passed, and Baki was drilling the three native Suna-nin on strategy, Naruto had enough and tried to join the practice properly again. He listened in again to Team Baki’s tactics and formations and finally, when it became clear that all of those co-ordinations involved only three Genin at a time, he asked, “What position am I, sensei?”

 

“You don’t have a position. You’re Gaara’s nin-pet, or his cargo.” Baki said mercilessly, “You’re not a real shinobi.”

 

Temari and Kankuro snickered at the harsh words, and Gaara did not appear to care one way or another about the cruel attack on Naruto’s abilities or utility. Gaara seemed to care nothing of Naruto’s feelings, only his physical safety.

 

The dyed redhead slumped away to mope and left the ‘real ninja’ to continue their training. It helped a little that Gaara looked so upset to be stuck there. But just a little. The looks of terror on Temari and Kankuro’s faces whenever Gaara did anything helped more.

 

Naruto sat down against the perimeter wall and thought for a moment on how he could be more useful. Back in Konoha, he had been, in his mind, on track to become the next Hokage in a couple years so surely he could at least join this team without dragging them down.

 

Except… the only thing he had going for him these days were his weird sand powers and his limitless chakra. The chakra had never helped him much before, so he was left with trying to work out how to use his sand abilities properly. Plus if he could control sand well enough, maybe he could even stop Gaara from stuffing him in that damn gourd every ten minutes.

 

He could crumble rocks into sand with a touch, which was useless in the desert, and he could turn into sand if Gaara crushed him, which was also pretty useless and more than a little irritating. Admittedly, less irritating than if Gaara actually killed him with his crush-happy ways, but still…

 

Naruto reached out in front of him and tried to command the sand on the ground to move a little, just enough so he knew he wasn’t useless, but as always he was left disappointed by his lack of innate ability. He had spent months in his second year at the Academy trying to discover his hidden, super-powerful bloodline ability, only to reaffirm that he did not, in fact, possess a bloodline ability.

 

And here again he was proving his lack of ability. He was sure he could control sand, it seemed obvious since he was made out of sand and all, but maybe he would have to keep trying.

 

He picked up a rock close by and drained all of the stability from it, cracking it and crumbling it into more sand. That was the best description he had been able to think up. It definitely felt like he was draining something from the rock but he had no idea what.

 

Next he spent his time trying to turn into sand of his own volition, without the help of Gaara’s crushing him to death. Like his attempts to control the sand around him, this ability seemed impossible to utilise on his own. He poked at his leg, willing it to disintegrate but in the end he was just poking his own leg. He tried hitting his leg but that achieved nothing but a numb leg.

 

He looked up and found everyone else staring at him, making him blush. Gaara looked mad at him hurting himself so he called out, “Sorry,” and went back to trying to control the sand in peace.

 

He felt like an errant child at that moment as he heard the whispers of Baki-sensei’s complicated plans through the wind between them, sitting on the ground and playing in the sand ineffectually.

 

After two hours of “training”, in which Naruto was ignored and Gaara did little in the way of actually training his abilities, the Suna Jinchūriki stormed up to him and dragged him away from the practice ground. Naruto noticed that Baki and his other two students stayed behind, presumably to continue the training session without Gaara.

 

“So, what are we doing now?” Naruto asked, hoping for some lunch.

 

Gaara didn’t reply, continuing to drag Naruto by the hand through the village. This gained more attention than Naruto thought appropriate, with a few of Suna’s denizens actually gasping. Granted, one or two of them had seen or heard about Gaara killing him earlier that day, but that woman’s screaming was still excessive.

 

Gaara thought nothing of it.

 

Naruto was dragged, compliantly, to a play park that he might remember from his time in the gourd, and Gaara settled on a swing, letting his disobedient little brother wander around.

 

The park was deserted and looked relatively untouched, judging by the rusted swings and the weeds growing about the place.

 

Naruto took the swing next to his sometimes-jailor, “Do you come here often?” It was obvious from abandoned park that Gaara was a regular visitor. Anywhere Gaara was likely to frequent tended to be devoid of life; except weeds, which was a small solace to Naruto who was missing seeing green.

 

Had he mentioned he hated sand?

 

Gaara nodded to the question. He liked to come here so he assumed otouto would like it as well. Gaara liked to sit here since nobody bothered him (for long) and it was quiet. It was different, though, with another person here. The deathly silence was disturbed by the subtle creaking of the swing’s chains, the sound of heavier breathing than his own, and the occasional question.

 

Naruto was hungry but it was still early and Temari’s cooking was nothing worth rushing to, so he quelled it as he had become used to doing, and went to play about on the park equipment. It was not very dignified to be seen playing on children’s things like he was but since it was only Gaara here, and Gaara was crazy, he decided the distraction was worth it.

 

As he whooped on his way down the slide, he noticed Gaara staring at him like _he_ was the crazy one. After five or six more goes down the slide, he settled back on the swing next to Gaara and looked over at him. Even though engaging the disturbing boy was probably a mistake, Naruto asked, “Hey, what can you do? Other than the sand thing.”

 

Gaara blinked and looked over to him. “Anything I want.”

 

“No, I mean, like, what ninjutsu do you know?”

 

Gaara did not know how many he _actually_ knew and how many his sand simply did for him. “Many.”

 

“Cool!” Naruto suddenly had stars in his eyes. “Can you teach me some? Baka-sensei is probably just going to ignore me but you’re strong so maybe you can teach me some stuff.”

 

“You cannot use my techniques.” Gaara knew his little brother had been born of the sand and could turn into sand but he did not carry a demon within him so he couldn’t use the techniques. And he also did not possess the Kazekage’s familial Jiton bloodline which might play some role in his abilities. He wasn’t sure of the specifics.

 

“Aw, come on!” Naruto whined, sinking to his knees in front of Gaara and clasping his hands together. Pathetic it might be, but he really wanted to get stronger. Plus, if he could do what Gaara did, he might be able to get away from the psycho. “Just show me a couple of the easy ones. I’ll figure the rest out.”

 

Gaara looked down at his little brother passively. “I cannot teach you my techniques. I can show you how to do other things.” He would have to teach his baby brother how to defend himself if he kept insisting on leaving the gourd all the time otherwise one of the Kazekage’s men or a shinobi on a mission or a wild scorpion might hurt him.

 

“What are you able to do?” Gaara asked back.

 

“Um, I can run really fast…?” Naruto replied, trying to smile. “I’m okay at taijutsu, and I can do really good Henshin, and I can substitute.”

 

Gaara waited for a few beats, expecting his little brother to continue but when nothing else was said he sighed. He was a newborn so it was to be expected that he would be defenceless. After determining that he knew nothing, Gaara asked him how good his wall- and water-walking were.

 

“Wall-walking?”

 

Gaara stared at him.

 

Naruto stared back. He blinked first and gritted his teeth, ashamed of losing the staring contest.

 

What followed was an excruciatingly slow-paced lesson to bring his skills up to the most rudimentary level. Naruto told himself that it was the fault of his ‘teacher’ for being so incommunicative during the process and telling him little more than, “You’re doing it wrong.”

 

After hours of running up the Suna perimeter wall and slipping off of it with Gaara staring impassively at his failures, Naruto had barely gained more than a couple feet and was starting to fade. His hunger was hitting him hard and he hadn’t eaten since last night, even if he didn’t need to eat as much, spending so long as inanimate sand.

 

Gaara didn’t seem to care either way but it was evening and he could do with stepping inside as the temperature was dipping fast. It was going to be a cold night.

 

Kankuro and Temari were both surprised to find themselves dining with Gaara twice in as many days, rarely if ever eating dinner with him more than once a month. Clearly Menma was having an effect on him already. Neither wanted to comment on whether this initial change was for the better or the worse, seeing as how they now had to eat dinner with their unrepentant homicidal little brother regularly.

 

Despite their apprehension, Kankuro set out two more places at the tables and put on extra rice.

 

“On the bright side, at least he’s eating more healthily.” Temari whispered as she sliced up the daikon radish.

 

“Never knew you were such an optimist.” Kankuro said.

 

Temari snorted and finished up with the radish and pulled out the salted beef.

 

When they were all sat down and the same awkwardness permeated the air as last night, Naruto asked, “Where do you eat usually, Gaara? Doesn’t seem like you eat out a lot.”

 

“I eat alone.”

 

“Yeah, and it’s normally junk food.” Kankuro muttered a decibel louder than he intended.

 

Gaara glared at him briefly before returning to his food.

 

“What do you guys like doing, then, when you aren’t, you know, training and stuff?”

 

“We’re shinobi. We don’t have _hobbies_.” Kankuro said.

 

“You don’t do anything for fun?” Even Jiji had his smut and his walks around the village, and he was the Hokage.

 

“I enjoy working on my puppets.” Kankuro admitted, if begrudgingly.

 

Naruto thought but couldn’t imagine the older boy playing with dolls. “You play with puppets?”

 

“I don’t _play_ with them!” Kankuro shouted, turning on his sister when she laughed. “I don’t!”

 

“So you just make them?”

 

“Puppetry is a unique shinobi skill of Suna, Menma. Chakra strings control the puppet. It’s a very powerful skill.” Temari said, soothing her brother’s fragile ego.

 

“It is weak.” Gaara disagreed, joining the conversation properly for the first time, albeit taciturnly.

 

“I bet everyone seems weak compared you, Gaara.” Naruto said. “Can you show me your puppet, Kankuro?”

 

“We’re eating.” Temari told them.

 

“No.” Kankuro said, not interested in engaging with the dead man walking more than he absolutely had to. He certainly wasn’t unwrapping Karasu again this evening just to indulge the brat’s curiosity.

 

“Aww! Stingy!” Naruto complained, spooning another heaped mound of rice into his gullet. At least there was plenty to eat, even if it was boring food. “So Kankuro likes playing with his battle puppets, but what do you like to do, Temari-chan?”

 

“-chan?” Temari snapped her eyes towards the impertinent brat.

 

“I don’t play with them!” Kankuro shouted.

 

Naruto blushed and ducked his head. Temari might have acted like boy but she was still a girl.

 

Temari scowled when Kankuro turned the tables on her and smiled. She grabbed the knife she’d brought out with the beef, readying herself to threaten the brat, make him retract the insult, but then she remembered why they hadn’t killed the boy already and risked a look at Gaara. Clearly he had noticed her intentions and was ready to kill her should she act on them. She released her grip and set the knife back on the table slowly.

 

Naruto didn’t appear to have noticed.

 

“What did you do with your time, when you should have been training, before you came here?” Kankuro asked.

 

Naruto laughed and scratched the back of his head, “Um, well, I used to play pranks around the village. Only on people who had it coming.”

 

“You played pranks?” Temari was as baffled as Kankuro. A shinobi who played practical jokes like a (real, civilian) child?

 

“Sometimes. I trained a lot too.” Naruto knew he was under attack but he didn’t know how to defend himself.

 

“Sure you did.” Kankuro patronised him.

 

Gaara watched the exchange with mounting confusion. He did not understand how his little brother, who was like him, was able to speak so easily and laugh freely. He was only young and born of a demon, but sometimes he acted like a normal human being and not a demon-spawn. So strange.

 

All this talking was upsetting him, though, so he stood, bringing the conversation to a halt, and excused himself to the bathroom. He stayed an extra moment to stare down Temari, should she get it into her head again to try and hurt otouto.

 

He did not need to use the toilet, he just needed to sit in a darkened room for a few minutes. His head was hurting from all of the interacting he had been doing these last few days. Otouto was a trying newborn but eventually he would mature and be quieter. Until then, this darkness was soothing enough.

 

Back in the dining room, Naruto suddenly realised his primary captor was gone for the first time and he had a chance to run. He set his chopsticks down so he could concentrate on which would be the best way to escape the apartment, but he noticed how Gaara’s blood siblings were watching his every move and realised he was not as free to leave as he first thought. Temari and Kankuro knew their lives depended on Menma being there when Gaara came back, so they weren’t taking any risks.

 

“Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to ask you guys this, but why is Gaara… you know, the way he is?”

 

Temari rolled the question around in her head. Kazekage-sama had given her permission, after allowing Menma to stay in the village in Gaara’s custody, to disclose the truth of Gaara’s nature if she deemed it necessary. It was entirely up to her discretion, meaning she could withhold it or wait until it was absolutely necessary to share it, but instead she was thinking of telling him right now.

 

“That’s none of your business!” Kankuro snarled at him. Gaara was a monster and a psychopath but he was their teammate, their fellow Suna citizen, and he was their little brother.

 

“Hold on, Kankuro. He’s going to have to find out sooner or later.” She turned to Naruto. “Might as well tell him now.”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Gaara contains a demon within him. It was sealed there when he was still in our mother’s womb. The one-tailed tanuki, Shukaku gives Gaara its strength and control over the sand.”

 

Naruto’s mouth fell open comically and his eyes went wide. Kankuro almost wanted to laugh at the expression of utter shock except he was readying himself to jump out of his seat and restrain the boy when he regained his senses and tried to make a break for it.

 

“Wow, so he’s a demon host! That explains so much!” Naruto exclaimed, his mouth morphing into a wide smile. So Gaara had a demon too!? They really were the same!

 

Temari took her turn to be shocked this time, having expected terror or hatred, not the look of excitement and relief.

 

Relief?

 

What was wrong with this kid?

 

“You know about Jinchūriki?” Kankuro asked, overcoming his shock before his sister.

 

“Uh, yeah, I think so. My old teacher mentioned them once. Don’t know much about them except there are a bunch of them, one in each village.”

 

“He wasn’t very smart then. There are two in Kumo and two in Iwa. And only the major villages and Taki have them.”

 

“Yeah, I knew that…” Naruto sweated and looked away.

 

Naruto toned down his excitement, seeing how wary it made his (sort of) teammates. Still, it was such an immense joy to find himself so close to a kindred spirit, even if that person was a freaky, psychotic kidnapper with no concept of personal boundaries.

 

“So, can all of the demon hosts do the sand stuff?” Naruto asked, secretly hoping this might be a simple answer to his current predicament. It would be nice to think that his abilities were from his first burden and not the subsequent one laid on him by the Snake.

 

“No, they can all do different stuff, I think. Never met one, thank the gods. Can you imagine Gaara with another Jinchūriki?” Kankuro looked at Temari and she nodded along. It was a scary thought.

 

“You think he would want to fight them?”

 

“I don’t think anybody could stop him if he met one. Gaara wants to fight strong people and Jinchūriki are powerful.” Temari explained.

 

Naruto restrained the groan from escaping his mouth. He was so close to being able to open up to someone and now he was back to narrowly avoiding violent death.

 

“Is training on tomorrow as well?” Naruto asked.

 

“Yep. Every day this week. Baki-sensei roped in Gaara as well so we can get ready to shoulder our new hindrance when missions start up again.” Kankuro said.

 

Naruto was under no illusion about exactly who that hindrance was.

 

“So we’re all going on our first mission together next week?”

 

“Yeah. Until then we’ve either got to get you up to speed before we leave, or you’re gonna spend the entire thing sitting in Gaara’s gourd.”

 

Naruto blanched. He hadn’t considered that probability. He had been too excited to finally get his chance to take a mission, even if it was a super dangerous one like Kankuro and Temari said it would be.

 

Gaara strolled back into the dining room and took his seat at the table, resuming his slow, methodical eating. He did not know what they had been talking about in his absence, he did not care much, but whatever it had been was now causing otouto to stare at him.

 

That night, Naruto had to beg to be allowed four hours sleep, on the promise that he would never run away like he had again. As last night, Gaara stood there watching him, this time with the lights on but Naruto was too tired to care. Even if Gaara was his fellow Jinchūriki, Naruto could not think of him as anything but a creep after Gaara tried telling him that “Sleeping more than four hours is lazy.”

 

In the dead of the morning, Naruto was again woken up by the weirdo and this time he didn’t try arguing. He resented but he didn’t argue.

 

As he crawled out of bed, he grumbled and rasped out insults but Gaara did not react, he simply waited patiently. Gaara wondered how long this whole ‘sleeping’ phase would last. Naruto rubbed the sleep from his sore eyes.

 

True, it was nice to have somebody who cared about him, to be wanted for a change, but this obsession was worse than the crushing loneliness sometimes.

 

Times like in the middle of the night when he should be allowed to sleep in peace. He was a growing boy!

 

Under the starlight and distant streetlights, Naruto continued working on his wall-walking practice in between yawns. It was still going slowly.

 

“Hey, Gaara, how come your skin’s so pale?” They lived in the desert, under the baking sun, and Gaara seemed to spend a lot of his time outside, and yet his skin was almost as monochromatic as Naruto’s, and many shades lighter.

 

Gaara looked down at the skin on his hand and turned it over, having never really thought about his appearance. “My sand armour shields me.” Gaara said, as if just discovering its UV protection himself. He let the sand from his hand fall off, revealing his unblemished and pale skin.

 

“Woah, that’s handy. No wonder you ain’t got no scars or anything. Except your tattoo, ‘course.” Naruto looked down at his own grey skin, totally devoid of colouration and looking quite dark at night. He missed his old tanned complexion.

 

Naruto tried a few more times to beat his record up the wall but after he reached twice his height, he always lost traction and slipped. When he landed in a crouch, he turned to Gaara again.

 

“Is that sand armour thingy because of your demon as well?”

 

Gaara blinked and wondered whether otouto knew about Shukaku because of his own birth or because of their idiot teammates. “Yes.” He replied. Truthfully, it was mostly his own chakra that powered the sand armour but his little brother was simple and didn’t need any extra complicated explanations.

 

“Cool.” Naruto whistled. So far his demon had done nothing for him except give him his whisker marks. “Are your eye-rings and your tattoo from it too?”

 

Gaara’s hand wandered up to trace his tattoo absently. “Yes.”

 

“Huh.” Naruto thought that was weird. Maybe he had a tattoo hidden somewhere he hadn’t noticed. He hoped whatever it said was cooler than ‘love’.

 

Gaara stared at his little brother, as he most often did. It just went to show that they were both demonic since no normal person had ever accepted his Jinchūriki-status so casually. It was… nice…

 

“So what is the deal with demons, anyway? Does that make you a demon too?”

 

“I hold a demon inside of me and use its power. I myself am a monster.” The distinction was not an important one to him.

 

Naruto had long since begun to question if Mizuki had been lying to him, about him being the Kyubi itself and responsible for the destruction it caused. He might still be a monster, the jury was still out on that one, since Mizuki and Gaara seemed to be in agreement that Jinchūriki were monsters, but that was better than being a demon… probably.

 

Naruto wanted to tell Gaara about the Kyubi, that they were in the same boat, but refrained when he remembered how insane Gaara was. Gaara might kill him because being a Jinchūriki meant they weren’t really brothers, or because he hated foxes, or some other reason Naruto couldn’t begin to guess at. Plus Naruto didn’t want to be seen as a weapon like Gaara obviously was.

 

After that place, Naruto would never be somebody’s weapon ever again!

 

He tried running at the wall again but misjudged his chakra output and his foot slipped against it and his face smashed against the wall instead. He groaned and rubbed his red nose but looking around; Gaara hadn’t even cracked a smile. The guy was immune to physical comedy!

 

“You are not very good at this.” Gaara commented.

 

Naruto sighed and plopped down onto the floor and took a break. It was thanks entirely to Naruto’s inexhaustible energy that he was able to function on so little sleep. Even if he could sleep in Gaara’s gourd, he needed a full night’s, uninterrupted sleep to properly recharge and that seemed to be a pipedream.

 

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“Menma’s starting to look even more like Gaara with those bags under his eyes, don’t you think?” Kankuro mentioned when the red-headed pair re-entered the apartment for breakfast.

 

“Don’t _you_ start saying they look alike.” Temari angrily whispered.

 

“You staying for breakfast?” Kankuro asked Naruto.

 

“Sure. If you have enough.” Naruto said.

 

“It’s just leftovers.” Kankuro told him, going back into the kitchen to get it. If Menma and Gaara were going to be eating with them more often, they would have to have more of Gaara’s money diverted to them to pay for it. They barely made ends meet as it was.

 

A place was set for Gaara too but he didn’t touch any of the food that was brought out. “I’m not hungry.” He told his little brother when the foreigner tried loading up his plate for him.

 

“Go and buy some clothes today. You’ve been wearing my spare uniform for two days straight already.” Kankuro told him.

 

Naruto looked down at himself and blushed. He had totally forgotten with how strange his schedule had been these past few days. “I don’t have any money. Will I get a stipend until I start taking missions?”

 

Temari laughed derisively. “I don’t know what rich country you came from, but if you want to get paid, you work. Anyway, you’re not going to be getting much anyway since you’re so useless.”

 

“Kazekage-sama is going to give you a small amount out of Gaara’s pay since you’re his pet project. When you prove you can actually take part in missions, he’ll give you your own money.” Kankuro added.

 

Naruto looked down at the table, feeling ashamed and frustrated at their true but harsh words. He risked a look at Gaara and breathed a sigh when he remembered that Gaara was crazy and wouldn’t care about something like money. Right now he was staring into space and his eye was twitching ever so slightly.

 

Once breakfast was over and Naruto had eaten sparingly, after being cowed by Temari’s and Kankuro’s frugality, he followed Gaara to the retail district of Suna. It was a sparse place, half the size of Konoha’s shopping area. Still, Naruto rushed about looking for the one criterion he had for fashion: bright orange.

 

He noticed as he went from shop to shop, the looks of terror and hatred the shopkeepers and other shoppers sent their way when they saw Gaara. It was hard not to notice, really. Still, in every shop he entered, Naruto said there was nothing he liked and would run back out again. He was, truth be told, looking for an exact copy of his old jumpsuit, or as close to it as he might find.

 

Worse than his so far fruitless search, all of the shop assistants he asked were acting like orange was a colour shinobi weren’t supposed to wear. As if the people of this village could understand his magnificent tastes!

 

Naruto rushed to the next shop that sold men’s and boy’s clothes but his arm was caught by Gaara who was beginning to look miffed. “I’m not ditching you, Gaara, I swear! I just want to check all of them before lunch. None of these stores have anything worth wearing. I mean, is it so hard to stock something orange!”

 

Gaara walked past him, still holding Naruto’s elbow, and dragged him into the next shop. Naruto darted about like a fly trapped in a glass jar, looking for anything at all in his signature colour. Gaara, meanwhile, ignored his hyperactive little brother and picked out a few pieces of clothing that he came across first and walked back towards the door with them. Naruto saw him leaving and caught up, only realising after they left the shop that Gaara had effectively stolen the clothes.

 

“Gaara…Gaara! Hold on a second!” Naruto ran after him, looking back to see the scared shop worker cowering in the corner with no intention to recoup his stolen wares.

 

Gaara did not heed his complaints and continued back towards the apartment, the clothes in hand. He hadn’t even taken them off the hangers.

 

“Gaara, are those even in my size!” Naruto said when he followed Gaara into their (??) bedroom.

 

“Put on your new clothes. Return that to Kankuro.” He gestured to the borrowed stage costume with contempt. Naruto thought Gaara was surprisingly judgmental when it came to fashion.

 

Naruto threw off the increasingly ripe black _cat_ costume, no matter what Kankuro said, and took the new clothes from Gaara. He would deal with the stealing later. “Ugh… these are so dull…”

 

Naruto pulled on the Suna-style clothes, first a mesh undershirt and beige trousers, and then a sandy shirt and a sash to go around his waist. “It’s sand-coloured…” Naruto continued to complain.

 

He hated the colour, but the collar of the shirt was very soft and would breathe much more easily than Kankuro’s dark uniform. Naruto sneered, wishing he had been able to buy (or steal) something orange himself. He collected the borrowed clothes in his arms and ran over to Kankuro’s room, or where he thought it was. He knocked on the door and Temari stuck her face out.

 

“What?” She asked, testily.

 

“Nothing, sorry, wrong room.” Naruto bowed and stepped back so the door could be slammed in his face.

 

He tried the other door and Kankuro answered it this time. “Thanks for letting me borrow these.” He handed over the bundle of clothes.

 

“Thanks for washing and ironing them…” Kankuro scowled, taking the clothes Naruto had worn for two days and then balled up, throwing them in his own overflowing, black-filled laundry basket.

 

“Hey,” Naruto started before Kankuro could slam his door in Naruto’s face, “Gaara walked out of a shop earlier without paying but he doesn’t want to go back and pay the guy. Do you know where he keeps his money so I could go back and pay for them?”

 

“You want to know where Gaara keeps his money?” Kankuro asked, turning back towards the suspicious new entity in their home.

 

“Well, yeah. I don’t have of my own yet and you said I was Gaara’s responsibility. Plus he kind of stole them before I could say anything. If I can borrow another one of your uniforms, I could take these back.”

 

Kankuro sighed, “Keep them. Baki-sensei will reimburse the guy. Gaara doesn’t carry money because he just ends up stealing anything he wants anyway. People died trying to charge him for things, so whenever he does take something, the shop owner asks Baki-sensei for money.”

 

“And he just hands it over? What if they lie?”

 

“Nobody lies to Baki-sensei. Not for long anyway. Now go away.” Kankuro walked back into the room, letting the door close behind him. Naruto caught a glimpse of mounds of sawdust all over the floor and what looked like limbs hanging from the ceiling.

 

Once again, Naruto observed that the crazy was strong with this family.

 

Still, at least he didn’t have to worry about Gaara or him getting in trouble for the sand-user’s kleptomania.

 

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Later that day, Naruto had wanted to take another look around town with Gaara and they’d settled in a café for lunch, despite the obvious discomfort it caused Gaara and everyone else nearby. The only people not horrified were Naruto and a visiting writer from the capital of Wind, Jōgaya, to whom he was talking. The writer did not know he was sitting perilously close to the most dangerous boy in Suna, nor was he aware that engaging Naruto in conversation was pissing that dangerous boy off.

 

Naruto was chattering away with the friendliest person he had met since… probably since he was Konoha. It was a stroke of luck that the man Naruto had decided to start a conversation with happened to be a Wind citizen. Naruto was already inherently under suspicion as a foreigner entering Suna’s shinobi forces, so if he had spent the better part of an hour speaking to another foreigner out in the open like this, he would have had a hard time convincing anyone he wasn’t a (really bad) spy.

 

As it was, Naruto was just so happy to talk to a nice, normal person for a change. He had been told, once upon a time, broadly what was and was not allowed to be disclosed to civilians, back in the Academy, so he tried to restrict his talk to the village in general and things like that. The writer was something called a ‘journalist’, but Naruto had not the first clue about the news. Shinobi villages didn’t tend to encourage newspapers or reporters.

 

“What do you think of the people here, Menma? Have they welcomed you with open arms or are you regarded with suspicion?”

 

“They’re nice enough, I suppose.” Naruto laughed, rubbing the back of his head and hoping this ‘journalist’ had not noticed all of the dirty looks shot at Gaara and he since they sat down. Naruto had to go to the counter to order and then again to pick up their food since the waitress was too scared to go near Gaara. Plus it seemed ‘customer service’ was literally a foreign concept here.

 

The Suna-native redhead was sat in the shade, seething about his little brother being so friendly with a stranger. He could be an assassin. Or a weakling, either way best not acknowledged.

 

Otouto had insisted they stop here for ice-cream, which Gaara had not had in years (because he didn’t care for it), but now it was all eaten and they were still here and his little brother was ignoring him.

 

This man from Jōgaya would die very soon if he didn’t stop talking about unimportant things.

 

Naruto glanced over at Gaara since the quiet boy probably wasn’t used to going to restaurants or cafes, and spotted the murderous look in his eyes. It was becoming a familiar warning signal so he made his excuses to the kindest person he’d met here and gingerly approached his adopted brother to soothe him before he killed someone/everyone.

 

“Hey, Gaara, sorry for ignoring you but I figured you wouldn’t-” Naruto was rudely cut off by the sand that stretched out of Gaara’s gourd and clamped over his head and dragged him into his prison with it.

 

Minetsu, the journalist, watched the apparent murder in shock and turned to see if any of the other patrons at the establishment had noticed it.

 

“Did you see that?” He asked the waitress that had finally returned to collect his plates.

 

She looked to where he gestured and put it together. “Oh, yeah, Gaara got himself a friend, I think. Apparently the boy gets crushed and stuffed into that gourd and then pops back out fine later. Showed up last week.”

 

“Wow. Shinobi are even stranger than I heard.” Minetsu whistled, looking around him for anymore inadvertent ninja hijinks that might be occurring around there.

 

“There’s regular shinobi and then there’s Gaara and whatshisname.” The waitress confided.

 

“Menma, the other boy. Nice kid.” Chatty, though; which was a wonderful quality in an interviewee.

 

“They don’t normally let foreign shinobi join, because of the spies,” She said, “But I think they made an exception to give Gaara a chew toy.”

 

“What’s the deal with the Gaara kid? Seemed pretty intense but Menma didn’t really say much about him, other than that they were teammates and living together.”

 

“Well, I don’t know that much about it, but I know that he’s dangerous, really dangerous, but he’s the Kazekage’s son and he’s one of the best young ninja in Suna. I heard another rumour saying that…Menma is Gaara’s brother. Who knows. Crazy stuff, either way, I suppose.” She said.

 

“There is a bit of a resemblance with the hair and the eyes, I guess.” Minetsu said, suspecting something more to the story as Menma’s hair was pretty obviously dyed and his eyes, other than supporting bags under them, looking almost nothing like the other boy’s.

 

Still, interesting stuff. Much more juicy than the resumption of the fish trade between Jōgaya and Sunagakure. Granted, whatever he wrote would have to be vetted by the Suna office in the capitol but he would make it work. It would have been nice if he had remembered to take a picture of the boys while he had the chance but they would have probably redacted it anyway.

 

Despite failing to increase the utility of any of his other abilities, Naruto _had_ managed to train his magnificent ability to be trapped in a gourd for long periods of time from repetition. He could now clearly see and hear out of the container in a pleasant sort of panoramic view. He couldn’t speak or move but at least he had a good view of Gaara’s walks around the quiet areas of the village from his prison.

 

It was dull but he did get to see more of Suna in between power naps.

 

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Over the following week, Gaara continued to diligently train his baby brother whenever they had some free time, which was in plentiful supply with Naruto’s new streamlined sleep schedule and lack of friends (outside of his crazy, self-appointed big brother). By the time their mission deadline came around, Gaara was a little less worried about his brother’s survival prospects outside of Suna’s protective walls.

 

Naruto on the other hand was supremely confident. He was sure he could beat Sasuke (and maybe Iruka-sensei) in a fight now that he could walk on walls, and hit the target with his kunai AND shuriken (although it wasn’t always the centre of the target he hit), and Gaara had even taught him the Sand Clone technique!

 

It had taken a lot of begging and whining but the tanuki Jinchūriki had relented and agreed to _try_ and teach Naruto the technique, if only to keep him busy. However, what Gaara lacked in teaching prowess Naruto seemed to make up for with his unlimited supply of chakra and enthusiasm to learn what he called ‘real techniques.’ Naruto’s surprising aptitude for clone techniques that could handle his reserves had been counterbalanced by Gaara’s inherent ability with sand complicating any explanation to someone without his instinctual control.

 

From the moment Naruto had been able to perform it successfully, he had been creating clones left and right, and had even tried to trick Gaara into storing a clone in the gourd while Naruto ran off. Gaara had ‘felt’ the difference and had not been impressed by the ‘joke.’

 

Naruto had insisted that Gaara and he sit down and eat with Kankuro and Temari most nights since he arrived, despite no one wanting this new arrangement. They had entirely failed to warm up to his charms and Gaara still threatened to kill them frequently, so the (blood) sibling relationship had not improved either. Nonetheless, Naruto insisted.

 

He was, frankly, a little upset when they even failed to reassess his usefulness in light of his awesome new jutsu, simply remarking that, “Creating more weaklings out of sand won’t help anyone.”

 

Both the older teens had fully sated their curiosity regarding their little brother’s playmate rather quickly so they had taken to ignoring him as much as possible. It was difficult when he was so desperate to engage them but they were great at ignoring things, as their non-interactions with the surly villagers proved. Them ignoring Naruto _did_ make Gaara a little happier, though, so there was a silver lining.

 

Sadly, this meant that other than the one journalist from the capitol, the only person Naruto had to talk to was Gaara, and all he ever wanted to talk about was: killing, ‘mother’, ‘proving his existence’, fighting strong people, and other subjects in that vein.

 

Naruto was still puzzled as to why Gaara even wanted them to be brothers since they weren’t friends, they had nothing in common, and they didn’t really _do_ much together despite spending all their time in close proximity.

 

Naruto even got the impression that he annoyed Gaara; a rare moment of self-realisation on his part.

 

It occurred to him, belatedly, that Gaara did not _want_ them to be brothers, Gaara just sincerely believed they _were_ brothers and there was nothing to be done about it.

 

Other than his underwhelming new abilities, Naruto had discovered a new facet of his pre-existing sand powers. He had been in Gaara’s bedroom, waiting for him to get out of the shower so he could take his turn, when he had went to examine one of the natural red-head’s numerous cacti. He had done this before and he almost always pricked himself on a spine accidentally. Gaara had been considering putting them on a higher shelf or something…

 

As he had been playing about with the biggest cactus in the room, almost a foot tall from the pot, he had noticed the small pebbles in the base and picked one out to crush into sand. He still hadn’t formulated a use for this ability, other than supplying Gaara with more sand when they were away from Wind, and more importantly he hadn’t come up with a cool name for it yet.

 

It was as he was pouring the new sand into Gaara’s gourd, resting against the wall, he then began to idly wonder what would happen if he tried using it on other things instead of just rocks. Honestly, it hadn’t dawned on Naruto before that moment to even try. There wasn’t a lot in the room to begin with, and Gaara had told him he “wasn’t allowed” to leave the bedroom, so he walked back to the cactus and pressed his hand against it, to use his ability. He sharply pulled it back and had to pull a number of needle-thin thorn from his palm before trying again more carefully.

 

Resting his hand gently on top of the deceptively sharp plant, he exerted the same feeling, like running his chakra along his palm and letting it leak out, which had previously fractured and shattered rocks and boulders into sand and dust. This time, he watched in amazement as the cactus began to wilt and droop. It shrivelled and dried out entirely and then began to crack and break apart like the rocks until it too was just dust in the pot.

 

Naruto pulled back his hand and stared in amazement.

 

A few minutes later, Gaara returned to his room to find three of his cacti were missing and his little brother was too energetic.

 

“Gaara, look at what I can do!” He shouted before destroying a fourth cactus.

 

Gaara stared on, less interested in this new ability and more in why otouto was destroying his plants…

 

Naruto soon decided, after he had been forced into the bathroom by an upset roommate, that he would keep this Gaara and him. Gaara could be relied upon not to gossip with his siblings or their sensei, and Naruto wanted to keep this as his secret weapon to pull out in a dire emergency. That way the others would be more impressed.

 

Gaara had no intention to tell anyone about this because he did not gossip, as Naruto thought, and because he didn’t want the Kazekage making otouto into a weapon. Plus, it was not as if his little brother would be doing any fighting, anyway.

 

Naruto tried out his cool technique whenever he got the chance from then on. Glasses of water emptied without him taking a sip, potted plants wilted unexpectedly, and a wooden pillar had crumbled as if petrified. It was just as well they were soon to be going on a mission as Naruto’s new and effortless technique might have brought ruin to the desert village if he were allowed to fool about with it unchecked for much longer.

 

Naruto was excited to be going to get his new mission until he and the other Genin were told to stand outside while their sensei went in to receive the briefing. Apparently this was standard practice in Suna, so that everybody down the chain of command was only told precisely as much as they needed to know. Despite this affront, Naruto was still in good spirits. Having witnessed Gaara’s badassery on a regular basis, his concerns about it being his first mission had disappeared leaving only this long anticipated exuberance.

 

Five minutes after entering, Baki stepped out of the Kazekage’s office, tucking the official mission scroll into his vest.

 

“Mission will be over a month long. Pack accordingly and we’ll leave in two hours from the West Gate. You will be briefed then.” Baki then walked away. No one could ever accuse him of coddling his Genin, Naruto thought.

 

Gaara, and Naruto outside of the gourd, followed Kankuro and Temari back to the apartment where they began collecting the few things they could risk carrying on such a long mission.

 

Naruto had nothing of his own to pack and his offers to help the others were rudely rebuffed so he stood back with Gaara. They both watched the older pair collecting dried food rations and pills along with a light load of projectiles and their individual weapons. Naruto still hadn’t actually (or knowingly) seen Kankuro’s puppet in action but Temari’s fan had been so cool. He had begged to be taught some of what she knew but she refused him flat.

 

“Hey, what about water?” Naruto asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He had walked the desert once without water and it had been one of the worst experiences of his short life, and now all he had seen them pack was rations, weapons and scrolls. Who read on missions anyway?

 

“It’s sealed away. Suna shinobi don’t carry canteens full of water everywhere they go or it would weigh them down.” Kankuro replied, speaking to Naruto as if he were a small and slow child.

 

Naruto guessed it made sense, even if he understood nothing of sealing beyond its usage in containing raging demons and making awesome explosions.

 

After the sparse supplies had been divided for carrying between the older pair since Gaara was apparently a special exception to physical labour and Naruto couldn’t be trusted, the three natives went around the apartment making preparations for being away so long. They threw out food that wouldn’t last, unplugged the fridge-freezer, locked the shutters over the windows, put dust sheets over furniture.

 

Naruto was surprised to see even Gaara helping, if only to water his own (surviving) cacti and dumping his (and Naruto’s) collected dishes from the nights Gaara had not been able to face another dinner with his detestable teammates into the sink for Kankuro to wash with a scowl. Naruto had tried to do it before but Gaara had told him to leave it to them and again now he was being told to leave them. Kankuro glared at him, presumably because he couldn’t glare at Gaara, as he quickly cleaned and dried the plates and cups. Gaara could be a slob sometimes.

 

When they were all ready, they left the apartment and Temari locked it down tight and pocketed the key. Naruto was a little glad that, as a newcomer to this place, he wasn’t feeling as emotional about leaving on his first mission. If he had been in Konoha it might have been a little more of a big deal to leave his home for a month.

 

They walked to the West Gate, Naruto enjoying the chance to actually walk around. Gaara had been more lenient these past couple of days (which only meant Naruto had spent more time outside of the gourd than in it) and it had been great.

 

At the West Gate, Baki was standing there looking at Naruto like he had made them all late, even though they were fifteen minutes early.

 

“This mission is scheduled to last forty days, with opportunities to resupply on course. We are escorting a shipment of rubies from Akaihana in the south-west to Onkibu in the Land of Tea. No expected targeted attacks, mid-level expected random attacks.” Baki said as by way of a greeting. Naruto missed Iruka-sensei’s warm smile and unthreatening anger.

 

“Which port are we taking to Tea?” Temari asked.

 

“We will head east from Akaihana and leave from Jōgaya. We’ll dock at Degarashi in Tea and go west to Onkibu.” Baki answered.

 

“One way?” Kankuro asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

Naruto looked between them, wondering if this was really just a C-rank mission. They were _expecting_ attacks, and they were travelling all over Wind and then across the sea to another country. He had never even seen the sea!

 

“Any other pertinent details, sensei?” Temari requested.

 

“Nothing that concerns you.” He answered gruffly. “Loose number four formation.” He started walking out into the wasteland and the others all followed but Naruto had no idea what ‘number four formation’ was nor how he fit into it. As he made to follow and ask Gaara where he should be walking, he was swept into the gourd and was left to stew in there.

 

As Gaara followed his team, he thought he heard his little brother screaming at him briefly, from inside the gourd, but attributed it to all the other screaming voices in his head.

 

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Naruto had never been so bored, he thought. He had ranted and raved for the first hour of walking but no one could hear him so eventually he stopped and tried to entertain himself by watching the scenery, except the only scenery around were the endless sand dunes. Not even a cloud in the sky to watch. The only thing he could see was sand blowing in the wind all around them.

 

He had a series of short naps throughout the day and then as the sun started to dip, Baki called them to a stop and they set up camp before the sun fully set, putting up tents and building a fire behind a windbreaker. It was only after everything had been set and the sun had fallen below the horizon that Gaara finally let Naruto out of his prison.

 

Gaara watched his little brother shout at him dispassionately and when he stopped for breath, Gaara offered him some food.

 

Naruto looked down at the dried meat being extended towards him, breathing heavily after screaming at and threatening Gaara until he ran out of breath and curse words, and sighed. He took the food and angrily chomped on it. No matter what he said to Gaara, the words meant nothing to him. It was clear the only thing that could communicate with Gaara was action.

 

Naruto kept coming back to the problem that Gaara was someone who, more than possibly anyone in the history of the world, needed a punch to the face and yet Naruto wasn’t strong enough to give it to him.

 

As he quietly munched on his paltry dinner, Naruto looked to the others but Temari, Kankuro and Baki were all silently consuming their rations and huddling by the fire. Naruto was cold but stayed near Gaara, away from the fire. He hated how much the temperature varied in this country. The only clothes that were bearable in the day were too thin for the freezing nights.

 

After finishing eating, the other three went straight into their tents and went to sleep.

 

“No campfire stories?” Naruto whined as they turned in for the night. Boring people.

 

“The walk is long and tiring. They want to rest.” Gaara said, uncharacteristically understanding of the need for sleep. It just happened to come at the one time Naruto had ample time to get some rest in the gourd during the day.

 

“So where are we going, exactly?” Naruto knew little geography and Akaihana and Onkibu hadn’t meant anything to him.

 

Gaara considered the question for a while longer and then rummaged through Temari’s bag, left outside the tent, for a small map of Wind. He and Naruto moved closer to the fire and Gaara traced the route of the mission on the map. “We are here. We will continue to travel south-west to the Dansai river, south of Reto lake, where we will board a barge taking us down the river. We will leave and travel west to Akaihana.”

 

“Akaihana, red flower?”

 

“It is a mining town that produces rubies. We will escort the clients, which we are not to kill, from Akaihana east, inland from the sea, crossing the Dansai river again, and then the Unkei, Chagawa, and the Hanagarashi rivers.”

 

Naruto followed along, wondering if it was really necessary for Gaara to clarify that the clients weren’t allowed to be killed.

 

“We will enter Jōgaya and the following morning we will board a ship that will sail out from the Bay of Bunpuku, into the Hanguri Gulf. Then around Tea from the gulf into the Nanmen Ocean and then up again into the Kanashii Ocean, departing at Degarashi port. From there we will head west to Onkibu.”

 

Naruto stared at the map, which did not bear any borders or names as such information could be considered minutely sensitive, and marvelled at Gaara’s memory for a moment.

 

“After the clients have been delivered with their cargo, intact, we will return to Degarashi and take a ship back around Tea to the north-west of Hanguri Gulf and make port in Danda, in the Land of Rivers. From there we will head north-west back to Sunagakure. Mission time: 40 days.”

 

Naruto gaped. “Do you know all of the villages and towns in Suna?”

 

“And the other nations.” Gaara said.

 

“How? Why?”

 

“It is expected that I know. I have to know who I am allowed to kill and who is strong.”

 

“Ah, that makes sense.” Naruto smiled. He was worried Gaara might have hidden depths and that those depths might be occupied by a bookworm, but equilibrium was restored with Gaara’s psychopathy.

 

Naruto considered, sadly, whether he was on the mission just as something to keep Gaara entertained and docile during the nights while the real team members were sleeping. He was a babysitter (or a distraction, depending on who you asked).

 

The journeying continued like that for the next four days, with Naruto sleeping for most of the days and being let out at night to keep Gaara company. It was a blessing in one way, since he spent two thirds of his time as sand, he needed to eat very little so the supplies would last longer. Plus Gaara had not wandered off or tried to kill Baki once since they set off, which was apparently nothing short of a blessing.

 

He was still pissed that his first mission was as luggage, but at least he was still able to train with Gaara through the night. He had managed to learn the Sand Clone in the week leading up to the mission, but now he wanted to master it. Being his only real technique, other than his dehydration palm trick, Naruto was determined to make it his own.

 

He also tried working on his ability to turn into sand, with Gaara’s help this time, but he had little in the way of luck regardless. It seemed to be entirely out of his control, this ability that only seemed to enable Gaara to trap him when he pleased.

 

One of the nights, the third, the team had built two fires with one almost a mile away. By the time Naruto was released, they had already left Gaara at one and retreated to their safe distance. Naruto looked around, trying to work out what was special, but all he could see, and it was quite far because of the full moon, was more sand and Gaara standing there and twitching every few seconds.

 

“What’s up with them?” Naruto gestured towards the distant light.

 

“…”

 

“Did they at least leave us some rations?” Naruto looked around and found a satchel with something to eat. “So, want to work on clones tonight or can I try dissolving again. I swear I’ll figure it out one day.”

 

Gaara was quiet and his eyes were bloodshot, but over the entire night he did not try to attack Naruto once. Clearly ‘Mother’ was not interested in the faux-red-head’s blood. The next morning at dawn, when the others gingerly approached, they had expected to find Gaara very upset at having murdered his pet in the night, instead both boys were sat by the embers of their fire, sipping tea.

 

Naruto had the good timing to put his cup down before Gaara dragged him into the gourd without a word of warning. The others cleared up the secondary campsite and soon were again on their way.

 

It was that day, after the full moon, that a band of desert-dwelling thieves had the terrible idea of trying to attack and rob Team Baki. A dozen men and women, covered from head to toe in bandages and ragged strips of cloth, wielding knives and swords, had leapt out of a hideaway in the sand and tried to ambush the Suna-nin. Two of them never made it to the ground, thanks to Gaara.

 

Baki’s first reaction to the attack had been the jump away from the fight. The mission did not call for him to engage enemies before their rendezvous with the clients and Gaara would not discriminate between ally and foe once he got started. Kankuro and Temari followed soon after, preparing themselves to take care of any stragglers. All of them knew better than to get in Gaara way or to try and poach Gaara’s prey.

 

Gaara, meanwhile, was in his element at last. The red haze had taken over and he was doing what came naturally to him. This distraction proved to be problematic as his control of the sand, while as strong as ever, was now focussed on crushing the bandits surrounding him, so Naruto was able to pull himself together and crawl out of the sand that had been called forth from the gourd.

 

He had been woken up by Gaara’s first strike and refused to sit idly by as his body was used to fight and he had no control over it. People kept calling him useless and dead weight, and lab specimen, and before that it was dead last; but he was a shinobi, damnit! He wouldn’t sit idly by.

 

He got into his best taijutsu stance and readied himself to fight, surrounded by enemies and with a comrade at his back. This was just like he had imagined it would be, back when he was daydreaming at the academy.

 

“Oh no, Menma got out!” Temari said.

 

“So?” Kankuro asked, his fingers twitching, ready to deploy Karasu.

 

“So if he’s killed, Gaara is going to be upset.” Baki finished for her.

 

“Crap.” Kankuro agreed. “Is there anything we can do?”

 

“If you want to join them, go ahead, but I’m not going anywhere near them.” She finished. In fact, she was readying herself to run in the opposite direction should Menma really get killed. That was their best option for survival and Baki agreed.

 

Gaara had noticed the moment Naruto manifested again, and suddenly his fighting changed, his sand curling protectively around both of them. His ultimate defence wouldn’t help otouto but Gaara didn’t need it against these pitiful thieves.

 

Naruto appreciated the help since these guys were stronger than they looked. He did the best he could without any weapons, but if the sand had not been intercepting half the attacks aimed at him, he would probably be dead by now.

 

He spun around to give someone a roundhouse kick before letting the sand swallow the guy. The next one to make it through the barricade was faster and Naruto had to jump away to avoid a dagger slash to the face.

 

Suddenly, Gaara was surrounded by half a dozen of the remaining (and soon to be killed) force while Naruto found himself facing a single opponent away from Gaara’s protective sand.

 

As Gaara slaughtered his foes, Naruto ducked under the next dagger swipe that would have slit his throat, and dived forward, tackling the full-grown man to the ground. They wrestled in the sand briefly, the blade being lost in the fracas, and Naruto ended up under the larger male, their hands around his throat.

 

“Brat!” He man grunted, clamping down on his windpipe.

 

Naruto scrambled, his body spasming and reacting instinctively to his sudden oxygen deprivation. His vision started turning black at the edges but he thought he saw Gaara still fighting.

 

In his panic, all Naruto could think to do was claw at the hands on his neck and futilely try to reach up past the man’s longer arms.

 

This had happened before. He had been held down like this back _there_ , by the others.  It hadn’t been their fault, they were desperate. Naruto had been more desperate, he had been so thirsty.

 

He had forgotten that part, the moment he had escaped, but he remembered it now. They’d held him down, like he had done to the earlier ones who returned from the other room, to take what was his, but he had grabbed them.

 

His hand repeated the motion from his memory, grabbing onto the arm slowly taking his life and he drained it. He had been so thirsty the last time he had used it on a person but now he was desperate, so he held on as he felt the hand on his neck stiffen, as he watched the man’s eyes crease in pain, and he felt the man try to pull away, and as the body lightened and stopped moving altogether.

 

Naruto coughed as his first lungful of air was laced with the powdered remains of the man who had tried to kill him and who had been dehydrated and rendered into dust.

 

He crawled out from under the dust, bones and rags, and tried not to throw up from the shock and the resurfacing memories.

 

Naruto looked around to see a few piles of bloody sand Gaara had left behind, a single set of remains closer to Temari, and he could see one of the bandits retreating back across the open desert. Gaara had spotted Naruto and looked surprisingly concerned, as if he was really feeling an emotion.

 

Gaara approached him slowly, his sand still flowing around him protectively. Naruto sat back, not able to trust his legs to support him just yet, and Gaara saw the bruises already forming on his throat and stopped his concern.

 

Like a switch had been turned off, Gaara stood up straight, turned to the fleeing thief and ran after him. Naruto turned to watch him go but then looked away moments before Gaara caught up to him.

 

From the expressions of the rest of Team Baki, Gaara had not gone to accept the survivor’s surrender. Naruto rubbed his neck, wishing his wonderfully swift healing were quick enough to ease the soreness and disappear the bruise before Gaara came back. It seemed to upset him.

 

Gaara walked back into the area, splattered with blood and looking markedly unhinged. Naruto sat and watched his approach but what was stranger than the blood or the expression on Gaara’s face was that he did not even spare Naruto a glance after spending over a week hardly letting the newcomer leave his sight. Gaara walked right by him without looking at him, straight towards Baki, Temari and Kankuro.

 

“Shit, he’s coming for us!” Kankuro said.

 

The trio got ready for a fight, hoping one of them might be able to snap Gaara out of this rage before any of them died. The mission would be over, that was for sure, since all of them would be wounded and sporting multiple breaks and fractures.

 

“Gaa-” Naruto tried shouting but ending up coughing. He tried again, “Gaara!” He shouted, but got no response.

 

Grunting, he rolled onto his knees and tried to stand up. Two stumbling attempts and he made it to his feet unsteadily, wobbling in the breeze.

 

Gaara was still marching toward his teammates with all of the dreadful certainty with which he had chased after the bandit who had tried to run away.

 

“Gaara!” Naruto screamed after him, trying to stumble his way to physically stop his psychotic captor. This was his first mission, his first real test from Kazekage-sama (that wasn’t specifically meant to kill him) and he would not accept failure. Especially not a failure involving the death of two of the Kazekage’s children at the hands of the third, along with their Jounin instructor.

 

Plus, as mean as they all were, Naruto didn’t want to see any of his comrades die.

 

He managed to get his feet working long enough to carry him around Gaara to stand in between him and the others. Baki had taken position in front of the other two, preparing to buy some time for them to escape since Gaara’s bloodlust was even worse than usual today. Once they got started, Shukaku would probably be loosed pretty soon.

 

The endangered trio watched as their dead weight placed himself in Gaara’s path, and they all thought the same thing: he will be the first to die, then.

 

“Gaara, wait, stop a minute!” Naruto said, holding his hands out to placate Gaara like a dangerous animal.

 

Gaara did not seem to be looking at him, he was staring right through Naruto, eyes wide and unblinking, blood rapidly drying on his face, and his sand creeping back out of the gourd, ready to strike.

 

“He’s going to get himself killed.” Temari said, baffled by the behaviour. Surely the fool knew this would end in his death, and for what? To act like some kind of hero? That just proved, more than ever, that he was not a Suna shinobi.

 

They watched Gaara, his face still murderous, walk right up to Menma, seem to perceive him at last, and then try to step around him. Temari’s eyes were wide with disbelief, that their brother would spare this stranger even when he was enraged as he was.

 

The terrified trio watched Gaara step around Menma, then Menma step back in his way, and this bizarre dance repeated multiple times, with Gaara getting angrier and angrier the longer it went on. They mistakenly thought he was angry about being impeded, but the truth was the longer Gaara had to look at those red, purple and black handprints on his little brother’s neck, the less he could think about anything but proving his existence.

 

Naruto could see this downturn and thought about what might pacify the big ball of crazy trying to get around him. Only one thing came to mind that might do the trick, that might bring Gaara back to whatever passed for his mediocre sanity.

 

Naruto stepped back in Gaara’s way one last time and stepped in, curling his arms around Gaara’s shoulder and hugging him.

 

The observers were even more stunned than Gaara himself, seeing Menma embrace Gaara like that when the boy was still covered in the blood of the men and women he had slaughtered.

 

Gaara felt something restraining him but as it was otouto he could not rip apart the offender. How could he get out of this hold without hurting him?

 

Naruto held Gaara, which was difficult because it was super awkward and Gaara was squirming, trying to escape and murder the others, but Naruto stayed firm. He leaned his head back to get a look at Gaara’s face but he was still glaring at Temari, Kankuro and Baki who were frozen under the intense hatred and chakra flowing off of the strongest member of their team.

 

“It’s okay. I’m okay, onii-san.” Naruto said.

 

Gaara stopped shifting and his sand stopped creeping around Naruto’s back. Naruto carefully released his grip, pulling away slowly in case Gaara was just pretending to have calmed down, and stepped back, his hands on Gaara’s shoulders.

 

Gaara looked perfectly normal (as normal as he ever did) and brushed Naruto’s hands off of him irritably, like he wasn’t covered in blood and other bodily matter.

 

“He got Gaara to calm down!” Kankuro whispered.

 

Temari and Baki were in no condition to reply, instead they gaped at the scene like they had witnessed a miracle, which they might have. No one calmed Gaara down except the Kazekage using his gold dust techniques.

 

“Temari, Kankuro, redeem your uselessness by treating otouto’s wounds.” Gaara commanded, stepping back so they could do it.

 

Naruto reached up to his bruised neck and wondered if that was what Gaara was referring to when he said ‘wounds’. “It’s fine, really. I’m a quick healer, dattebayo!” Naruto said, smiling. His smile faltered when Gaara turned back to him with that increasingly familiar scowl, chastising him for some perfectly reasonable behaviour or observation.

 

It was Temari who eventually stepped forward, reaching into her pouch for her readied bandages. Naruto’s bruises didn’t need dressing but Gaara’s show of concern was enough to compel her complicity. She wrapped up his neck, careful not to tie it too tight, and then stepped back so Gaara could inspect her work and sweep Naruto back into the gourd despite Naruto’s loud and abruptly ended protests.

 

“Let’s go.” Gaara said, testily. Temari took a chance, since Gaara appeared to be back in his default mood. She stepped forward and used a cloth to wipe the blood from his face.

 

He glared at her again as she did it but did not move to stop her, waiting patiently as she finished clearing the worst of the sand-caked blood from his cheek and brow.

 

He did not thank her but he also did not kill her so she stepped back and smiled to herself. Kankuro had watched this latest oddity with the same confusion he had felt when watching Gaara cease his murderous rage from a hug, of all things.

 

Like the attack and near slaughter of three fifths of Team Baki had never happened, they started their long march once again, with Gaara in the lead this time and Baki behind him, where he could watch him, and Kankuro and Temari bringing up the rear.

 

“You saw what happened, right?” Kankuro asked.

 

“Yes I saw. I just cleaned his face without him threatening to murder me.” Temari shot back.

 

“Is he changing?”

 

“I don’t know. If he is, it’s for the better. If not, there’s more to him than we thought.”

 

“More to Gaara?”

 

“Shut up and keep watch. If anyone attacks again, we don’t want to get caught off guard.” She told him, turning back to look at the horizon for any signs of approach.


	3. Temper Tantrums

The blowing sand had quickly washed away the blood and covered the corpses Gaara left behind, and Naruto was glad to be leaving the area. He hoped by not seeing the horror that Gaara had just caused, he might be able to pretend it never happened; which would be easier if he didn’t also have to ignore the blood and gore drying in Gaara’s hair at that very moment as he walked behind him.

 

He had been expecting the attempt, so when Gaara’s sand swept around to capture him, he was ready to leap out of its path. Not one to give up after the first surprise attack, Gaara continued his attempts to rescue his little brother and keep him safe inside of his gourd. His sand flew around but each time it came close, otouto would jump out of the way.

 

Naruto was exhilarated. He had been intensely observing Gaara’s attack patterns since he came to Suna and it was finally paying off.

 

“Haha, you aren’t gonna be locking me up anymore, ‘ttebayo!” Naruto taunted, stopping long enough for the sand at his feet to grab a hold. “Ah, crap!”

 

Moments later Naruto was trapped away again and the group could continue, with all but Gaara struggling to walk under the enormity of their bewilderment. Gaara never calmed down, and he did not surrender to sentimentality or familial affection, and yet he had just spared their lives (after threatening them) thanks to nothing more than a hug and being verbally accepted by the stranger he claimed was his little brother.  

 

The rest of the team knew better than to delay Gaara so they did not let their incredulity slow them down, particularly when their faux-redheaded teammate was not around to act as their saviour, as strange a thought as that was.

 

Meanwhile, inside of the gourd, with little to occupy his mind outside of watching the unchanging landscape and having a close view of the blood caked into Gaara’s darkened hair, Naruto was forced to dwell on not just what transpired but his role in it. He had killed someone and not for the first time…

 

_“Let me go!” He struggled, he could hardly breathe. It was so hot and he was so thirsty._

_The hands, dozens, or hundreds for all he could tell, would not release his weak body, even as frail as they were themselves. They had done this before, he had seen them, but he had never tried to stop them and he knew no one would stop them now._

_It was okay, they could take his sandals and even his treasured goggles, precious as they were to him and even though they were his last possessions left from before he was trapped here. He just wanted some water._

_The cell had a small trough of stagnant, warm water, he just needed to crawl to it and he could drink his fill but the other boys and girls thought he was trying to escape with their prizes and gripped him tight until they could relieve him of them. Doubtless, they themselves would have them stolen once they had been taken for ‘treatment’ like Naruto had just been._

_He was too thirsty, he couldn’t think._

_He reached over and tried to pull one of the restraining hands off of him so he could just get a drink since he could not speak, but his perceived resistance only earned him a weak punch to the face._

_He tried again to grab one of the hands holding him down, his fellow victims now taking turns to slap or punch him, taking their mad frustrations out on him. And then the boy whose wrist he was holding screamed…_

 

Naruto reckoned if he had hands right now, he would be staring at them even though there would be no blood to be found. He didn’t leave blood behind, just dust. But still, he felt oddly numb as a pile of mostly inanimate sand. He was more upset about Gaara trapping him again than what he had done to that murderous bandit.

 

Maybe he was more like Gaara than he thought. _That_ was a scary prospect.

 

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Naruto had taken to dazedly watching the scenery again and occasionally his teammates, who were walking behind Gaara and had initially traded concerned looks for a while but eventually went back to their normal wariness around the redhead who was carrying him. The time between the attack and their arrival at the Dansai River felt like a dull blur to him in his confinement.

 

Thanks only to his partial inanimateness, Gaara having kept him imprisoned for the days it took to reach the river without letting him out even once for food or water, did not kill Naruto. However, it did leave him in a foul mood.

 

Baki and Gaara’s real siblings had pleaded on Naruto’s behalf to let him out and have something to eat or drink, but the most Gaara was willing to allow was a little water being poured into his gourd. He was apparently far too paranoid of another attack taking place and his little brother being injured even more seriously to allow otouto any measure of freedom.

 

Temari was convinced that when it came time for Gaara to loosen the reigns, he would be throwing a corpse out of his gourd. Kankuro disagreed, believing that Menma would simply fail to re-substantiate and would forever remain as sand. Whatever Baki thought of the matter, he kept to himself.

 

Naruto had been eagerly awaiting their arrival at the river, if for nothing more than a change of scenery; he was beginning to wonder if anything short of battle would give him a chance to escape.

 

He had expected the desert to run straight into a small stream and they would have to run along it for a couple days, instead in the distance he saw a village among a number of trees; a startling green and brown digression from the uniform sand he had had to stare at for the past few days. Apart from the odd weed or the cacti and securely guarded greenhouses back in Suna, this was the most green he had seen since Mizuki’s arrest. How desperately he wanted to jump out of this prison and roll in some grass or hug a tree.

 

As they neared the village, Naruto could see what looked like a small fishing community milling around until they spotted the approaching quartet. Shinobi, Naruto understood, were often objects of fear or hatred outside of their base villages, so it came as no surprise that a welcoming committee failed to materialise when they closed in.

 

That a few shouts were heard which included “Demon”, “red” and “Sabaku” as the streets completely cleared was probably more specifically directed at this particular group of shinobi rather than their profession in general. In fact, the way that the villagers ran away and glared out of their windows at Gaara reminded Naruto a great deal of how he had been treated in Konoha.

 

However, unlike in the previous instances when he had been drawn into making this same comparison in Suna, now he was utterly pissed at his carrier and he could not help but complain to himself that he had never killed people like Gaara had (back then, anyway) and yet he had been treated the same. Just because they both housed demons, they were treated the same, even though one was a murdering psychopath and the other was an innocent and awesome Hokage-to-be.

 

He steamed over this inequity while the team entered the village proper and walked straight through the empty streets until they reached the small dock. It had, moored to it, two small fishing boats and a barge with a nervous-looking man aboard.

 

“I am Baki from Sunagakure.” The team sensei said, walking right up to the ferryman and offering him a scroll from his pouch. The boatman took one look at the wax seal on the scroll and handed it right back, beckoning for them all to get on board.

 

“It will take two days to reach Denshi.” The man said.

 

“Yes, I know.” Baki said shortly, standing aside for his Genin to board. Kankuro sat right down and observed the village while Temari emulated their sensei and remained upright and stoic. Gaara stepped aboard slowly and moved to the precise centre of the barge, standing only long enough for the boat to rock a little. Naruto wondered if Gaara did not like being on boats or if he just disliked being away from sand.

 

They cast off with the barge operator nervously steering them in the middle of the wide river and trying not to make eye contact with any of them, especially the infamous demon of the sand. It had taken only a few hours for Temari to tire of standing to attention with nothing to do so she wandered over to the edge of the simple craft and sat on the low wall that ran around the rectangular vessel. Kankuro had continued to stare out at the passing scenery, most of which was green on the bank of the river and then abruptly shifted back to the familiar desert colours further out. Baki had not moved a muscle and Naruto could not work out why the uptight Jounin was so determined to look tough when the only people there to see were his own students and a barge operator who could not be less threatening, and he did seem to be trying.

 

Gaara ignored all of them, as much as he was ever able to ignore anybody near him, and was presumably meditating because his eyes were closed and his breaths were even. Naruto might have thought he was asleep except Gaara didn’t sleep and he had testily asked Kankuro what he was doing when the older boy was trying to fish with his chakra strings to pass the time.

 

They would be travelling down river overnight and Temari figured this might be a good opportunity to deal with Menma’s corpse and Gaara’s tantrum. Gaara was at his least dangerous when he was surrounded by water, and there were no more villages for a few miles so the human casualties would be minimal.

 

“You should let Menma out for some food now, Gaara.” She gently prompted, keeping her distance.

 

He opened his eyes and looked at her with all of the normal hostility but did not verbally respond.

 

“We’ve talked about this, he needs to eat.” When he still didn’t respond, she added, “He’ll be safe.”

 

Temari watched her brother carefully for any reaction and just managed to catch his eyes flick to their left corners, to the direction of the bargeman.

 

“He will be safe. You can protect him from one civilian and we will help, okay?” She pointedly looked at Kankuro.

 

“Uh, yeah, we’ll make sure nobody hurts him, Gaara.” Kankuro said, trying to keep his tone even despite the silliness of the statement. The barge operator was paralysed in fear, knowing that his death was imminent when Sabaku no Gaara had acknowledged him. He wanted to claim that he had no ill will to whoever this Menma was but he was sure any speech from him now would result in his death.

 

Gaara looked around the boat, verifying that there was no one else onboard and that the bargeman was as harmless as his idiot teammates claimed. It had been a little while since his little brother had eaten and he was starting to struggle again. But he could hardly feel the sand on the shore at all, so he would be restricted to using his gourd and his brother’s sand until they could cross the water.

 

Gaara eased his hold on his sand and let Naruto emerge in his own this time, climbing out of the gourd and reconstituting just above the opening. Naruto landed onto his newly reformed feet and swivelled on his feet and swung for Gaara, who was still sitting and looking up at him with that same hateful straight face. The sand left in the gourd rushed out and blocked the punch and Gaara did not even flinch behind his shield.

 

Naruto pulled back his fist and then walked over to the side of the barge and moped over his inability to hit his captor just once. The satisfaction of leaving a bruise on that porcelain face would have made the inevitable retaliation worthwhile.

 

Gaara stood up when Naruto took his seat and moved closer to him, still a few feet in from the wall. He was staring at Naruto again, which made everyone uncomfortable, but it was Kankuro who noticed what had caught Gaara’s rapt attentions this time.

 

“Temari, do you have the dye or do I have it?” Kankuro asked.

 

She rolled her eyes, “You’re the one who packed it. Why should I know which bag you put it in?”

 

Kankuro ground his teeth, “If you haven’t seen it, just say so!” He pulled his bag around and started to rummage through it until he found an unassuming scroll. He unfurled it and started to read the kanji along it until he came across the dye symbol. Using one of his non-poisoned senbon, he pricked his thumb and summoned the dyeing supplies.

 

“Menma, come over here.” Kankuro waved him over as he started to mix the red pigment, ready to redo the probationary comrade’s fading dye-job. The white was starting to bleed through in areas and in others it had just faded to pink, which Naruto would only be too glad to re-colour.

 

Pink only suited Sakura-chan.

 

Naruto sat next to Kankuro and took off his shirt, using a ready towel to catch anything that might drip onto his grey shoulders. Gaara watched Kankuro so carefully he suddenly worried he might hurt Menma and he might die for it, except he was dyeing hair and there was almost no way that could actually hurt his adopted younger brother.

 

That said, he took extra care not to let any go in Menma’s eyes.

 

Kankuro used the river water to wash the dye out afterwards and Naruto let it dry under the sun while he enjoyed the fresh air and a chance to eat something, even if it was rations. He had asked if he could have some of the fish Kankuro had managed to catch with his chakra string but the kabuki-impersonator had scowled and told him to get his own. When Naruto realised that Kankuro was going to be eating his fish raw, since there was no feasible way to build a fire on a wooden barge, he decided he could be contented with the dried rations.

 

While Naruto was out, Gaara was clearly unsettled, so Baki did what he could to subtly stand between his most psychotic student and the barge driver. Gaara hated and feared him as well but their fight had been settled a long time ago and he could rely on Gaara’s passivity so long as he didn’t make a move against him.

 

Kankuro and Temari dearly wanted to talk to Menma, to know more about the addition to their team who they had previously deemed to be useless, until he had tamed Gaara. However, as much as they wanted to chat with the annoying foreigner, they had no chance when Gaara would not let them near him once Kankuro was done colouring Menma’s hair.

 

Since he was essentially still isolated despite being on a cramped river vessel, Naruto tried to talk to the only one he was allowed to speak to here. Sadly, Gaara was even less talkative than before and refused to help Naruto train that night. He continually pestered Gaara and by the time even Baki was half-asleep, sitting against the opposite side next to the bargeman, he had managed to convince the stony psychopath to let him wash his hair at last.

 

Going long period in between baths was just one of the many hazards of being a shinobi and they would almost certainly have a chance to make themselves presentable before meeting the clients, but that was still a few days away and Naruto had been staring at, among other things, the back of Gaara’s blood-crusted hair for too long and he vowed to wash it at the first opportunity.

 

Gaara was less than cooperative as Naruto bent him over the side of the barge and used the chilly river water to remove the bandit from Gaara’s hair. It was difficult to see clearly in the waning moonlight but he was pretty sure he got most of it by the time Gaara’s patience ran out and he threatened to ‘ground’ Naruto again.

 

With the rest of his night and nothing else to do, Naruto slumped down and started to try and manipulate Gaara’s sand again. He spoke to his surly ‘older brother’ as he concentrated on his task, which mostly amounted to staring at the inanimate sand.

 

He didn’t have much to say of consequence and the lack of reciprocity made for a bit of a stilted monologue.

 

“You know, I just don’t get it. Right? I mean, how many shinobi actually use the ring. Other than putting exploding tags on them, it seems like a waste of time.” Naruto continued his rant, having wandered onto the topic of kunai five minutes ago.  Gaara desperately wanted to inform his ignorant little brother that the ring was primarily for balancing the weight of the knife, and the ring was a versatile shape for that weighted section, however Gaara knew engaging his otouto now would only encourage more inane talking. He needed to teach his little brother early on that silence was golden.

 

Naruto did not catch on to this lesson, instead he continued to talk until Kankuro got woken up by his impassioned speech about the obvious political agenda behind a so-called “balanced diet”. Kankuro stirred, said something vaguely threatening and barely coherent before turning back over and returning to his sweet dreams.

 

Naruto continued to stare at the sand, trying different hand movements and different chakra outputs (ranging from fire hose to tsunami). Near the end of the night, when the sky was returning to navy blue, he finally felt the barest twinge in his perception, a light brushing against his… maybe this was what people meant when they talked about a sixth sense? He could definitely feel something.

 

He tried to keep that feeling in mind despite his attention deficit and then he tried to do something with it. It was frustrating but he definitely felt something… give.

 

Just as the sun was rising, earlier than Team Baki appreciated, Naruto screamed in exaltation, waking everyone on the raft who had not already been awake. He had managed to make the sand move! Without even touching it or using handseals or anything! Granted, he had only managed to make a little tuft of the handful jump a little, which wouldn’t be very useful in a fight (or any other situation)…

 

His teammates were less impressed by this monumental achievement and he was pretty sure, as time wore on, that he would have died on that river had Gaara not been there. Gaara did not seem to care about this triumph, either, waiting until Naruto had seemingly finished practicing and drawing the sand back into his gourd. He had seen otouto’s pathetic trick and did not see any reason to care.

 

Since everyone was awake now and there was a village nearing on the eastern bank of the river, Gaara swept Naruto back up into the gourd and finally enjoyed some peace and quiet. An hour later when the lethargic team rose properly, Temari noticed that Gaara’s hair was cleaner than it had been since they had fought those bandits. Suddenly feeling hopeful, that today might be a good day to deal with her recalcitrant little brother, she stood and walked over to where Gaara was again sitting in the middle of the barge.

 

“Your clothes need cleaning. If you take them off, I will wash them and they’ll be dry by the time we have to get going.” She said. It was a hot day so the clothes would dry very quickly. In future, she would need to see about getting Gaara a second uniform for situations like these. He was always getting covered in blood and keeping him from terrifying clients because of this had been a struggle at times. He hated clothes shopping so much, it had been a shock to hear he had gone with Menma to get some.

 

“No.” Gaara said.

 

“You can wear one of Kankuro’s spares until yours dry.” She reasoned, ignoring her middle brother’s indignation of his clothes being lent without his permission again.

 

Gaara glared at her, the thought of wearing that idiot’s uniform was an insult.

 

“Fine, you can stay in your under-things, but please let me wash your bodysuit. You’ll start to smell…”

 

Gaara, unlike most teenage boys, did not give himself a cursory sniff but instead proceeded to petulantly ignore her attempts to goad him.

 

Temari saw she was making little headway and gave her layabout brother a _look_ from across the barge.  She had to do this twice more before Kankuro caught on.

 

“Oh, right,” He said, standing up and walking over, staying behind his big sister. “Yeah, you should let her wash your clothes. It’s no problem at all.”

 

Temari elbowed him in the ribs, “Please, Gaara, it won’t take long.”

 

Gaara glared and stood to disrobe. Gaara was an immodest boy, stemming from his total lack of empathy, so he did not feel the need to cover himself as he stripped down to his undergarments. His upset had been at the thought of dressing in Kankuro’s ridiculous outfits. Seeing her baby brother in such a state, Temari wrapped him in her blanket before commencing the washing. Gaara was not happy to be wrapped like this, not least because of the physical proximity it had entailed.

 

He resumed his seat next to his gourd and watched his contemptible team members mill about. He needed to figure out, one of these days, why he had never killed either of them. It was puzzling.

 

With a sinking feeling that they knew exactly what their little brother was thinking at that moment, Temari proceeded to wash the blood stains out of Gaara’s black body suit and ruined white sash. The latter item would need a very deep clean when they returned to Suna, or even replacing altogether. She quickly bullied Kankuro into helping her.

 

Within ten minutes, Gaara had discarded the blanket she had wrapped around him and instead called his sand out to cocoon him. He kindly released his hold on Naruto again so that he could partially manifest within the safe confines of the sphere. Naruto managed to form his torso in the cramped space and marvelled at the strangeness of being half sand.

 

Despite Gaara seemingly being more willing to chat, in that he did not look in the other direction and totally ignore Naruto as he spoke, Naruto now came across another problem: if the subject did not concern killing or working life as a shinobi, including an impressively encyclopaedic knowledge of geography and other areas, Gaara did not seem able to speak about it.

 

Naruto tried to get to know Gaara a little better, to get past what he had learned in the first two weeks of their acquaintance. But, as it turned out, there was not that much more to know about Gaara once you moved past the killing, the paranoia, the mother obsessions, the demon, and the loneliness/creepy obsession with Naruto. He decided, as he struggled to think of another subject, that he should introduce his self-proclaimed brother to more experiences in life outside of work, like movies, ramen, pretty girls (like Sakura-chan) and ramen.

 

Somehow, he doubted Gaara would be too interested in the fairer sex. Unless it involved killing them. The was his primary interest in all people.

 

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Now that he was redressed in his somewhat fresher clothes, Gaara disembarked the barge, leaving its owner/operator terrified and thanking the gods that he had survived. He would be a hero back in his village for this!

 

Straight off of the dock, Team Baki started running west into the desert. It would take a further two days to reach Akaihana at their scheduled pace and Naruto was glad to see that the land west of the Dansai was a lot more varied than what he had witnessed in the centre of the country. While it would still qualify as a desert for its dryness, the region seemed positively verdant by comparison, with the occasional tall cactus and half-dead shrub punctuating the scenery, plus the distant mountains looming at the border of Wind as they neared their destination.

 

Over the two nights that it took to reach Akaihana, when Naruto was again allowed out of his portable home, he tried to replicate his (in his own eyes) amazing feat with the sand while gently introducing Gaara to some of his interests. What Naruto had failed to imagine was that even after describing in excruciating details the plots of some of his favourite movies, and telling of one or two of his more elaborate pranks, Gaara could so utterly fail to comprehend their greatness.

 

After describing how he had painted all over a precious village landmark from where he originally came from, Gaara had seemed confused as to why Naruto had not been killed by his village chief, and then he could not fathom why Naruto had done it in the first place. Uncultured swine, Naruto thought.

 

Beyond Gaara’s incomprehensible lack of appreciation for the finer things in life, Naruto also had to work out why he was still struggling to even make the sand move when he had already managed to do it on the barge. He reckoned it was because on the water there had only been a little bit of sand to think about, whereas now he was surrounded by the stuff.

 

On the mission’s seventh day, Team Baki walked into the bustling mining town of Akaihana with an air of relief. Even for desert dwellers, it seemed treks through the open desert were unpleasant. Indeed, as soon as they neared the buildings in the shadow of the mountains, Kankuro immediately demanded that they go and have a proper meal.

 

Unfortunately, like the little village up the Dansai River, Gaara’s appearance quickly spread through the town like a cold spell and people were already beginning to clear from the streets.

 

“We’re not going to go and eat in a restaurant while Gaara has rations, Kankuro.” Temari scolded him. If Gaara tried entering a dining establishment, the cooks and waiting staff would probably clear out too.

 

Kankuro looked gravely disappointed but did not push the issue, whether because he saw the virtue of Temari’s statement of was simply bowing to her leadership, Naruto could not say. Had he a voice, he would have complained that _he_ wanted to eat a decent meal too.

 

Gaara turned on his heel and marched towards an alley.

 

Temari just caught his changed direction in time to ask, “Where are you going?”

 

“Eat quickly or die.” Gaara told her without stopping or turning, continuing into the alley and then hopping up onto a roof.

 

Kankuro’s smile grew and Temari’s frown deepened but she still led them to the nearest inn for lunch after Baki gave a nod. In the tree Gaara had claimed as his temporary dining room, he allowed Naruto to partially manifest, still holding his legs in the gourd so he could be sucked back in an instant. Naruto scornfully chomped down on his dried rations while having to suffer under the wafting smell of the dining district in the street below.

 

As he choked down whatever meat had been dried and rendered into little more than chewy salt, Naruto resentfully made the same comparison he had been making for ages now. He could sympathise with Gaara’s treatment once again and it was pissing him off more than ever. In his home village, he had been barred from certain shops and restaurants and for no good reason (since pranks were delightful in his eyes). Gaara’s psychopathy was bugging him more and more as their time together wore on.

 

After lunch had been eaten, Gaara was called into a second floor window of the inn where his teammates and sensei were waiting. They had booked the room for a couple of hours so they could all wash up properly and make themselves presentable before meeting the clients. The way Gaara went along with it when he had been so resistant to self-maintenance before made Naruto suspect this was a regular occurrence. Yet another thing his Academy education had failed to prepare him for.

 

They all took turns in the shower, with Kankuro taking the longest, and even Naruto was allowed out long enough to clean himself. He had to look for back up in the room when Gaara wanted to wash with him again. He did not understand the distinction between ‘brothers’ going to a bathhouse together and two guys sharing a shower. Luckily Temari and Kankuro were quick to try and explain the important difference.

 

As he enjoyed a hot shower, Naruto wondered what other vital lessons had been excluded from Gaara’s upbringing. For someone so clearly intelligent as Gaara was, he was a total moron at times. He might have seemed like a pervert if he didn’t look so confused. Still, straight forward motivations or not, Naruto watched the door intently throughout.

 

Soon they were all cleaned up and ready to go. Naruto was a little disappointed that he had not had the chance to see what was under Baki-sensei’s face covering, but otherwise he felt much better… until he was crushed into sand again.

 

They left the inn and walked further into the town, towards a heavily guarded compound that surrounded the largest mine around. The group garnered fewer terrified reactions as they walked amongst the busy industrial area, and instead they proceeded unmolested to the main office in the centre.

 

Baki led them into the administrative building, up to the personal office of Chianki, owner of the largest ruby mine in Wind, the fourth richest man outside of the nobility in the country, and their client. He was an older gentleman, dressed in traditional Wind robes and with a kind-looking face, Naruto thought.

 

“Welcome, welcome. You are just on time!” He greeted them, waving them all into his expansive office and sitting back down behind his desk.

 

“Team Baki reporting in for the escort of valuable cargo to the ruby refinery in Onkibu, the Land of Tea. I am the Jounin instructor for this team, and with me I have the Genin: Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara.”

 

“Wonderful. I was led to believe that some of the children of the Kazekage were on your team. Would it be terribly rude to ask who is who?”

 

“All three here are the offspring of our Kazekage. As such, they are some of the strongest shinobi-in-training we have to offer.” Baki boasted, though pride being curiously absent from his tone of voice. “They will be more than adequate for this mission but for anything they cannot handle, I will be there to step in.”

 

Naruto noticed the smirk that etched itself onto Kankuro’s face and his glances at Gaara. Did Kankuro think Gaara was stronger than their Jounin sensei?

 

Was he?

 

The door opened behind them and a boy darted in, a year or two older than Temari and mousy in every way. He set an armful of scrolls down on the desk and stepped back.

 

“This is my stepson and personal assistant, Chosuke. He will be joining me on the journey as a learning experience.” Chosuke bowed to them as his stepfather introduced him.

 

“That will not be a problem. Who else will be accompanying you on the route?” Baki asked.

 

“It will be me, Chosuke, my security chief, Yoshifune, his deputy, Arran, and the cart drivers, Yusuke and Yura. Oh, and there’s my cook, Aisu.”

 

Chosuke walked quickly to the door again and poked his head out, inviting in a broad, older man and a twenty-something man with sharp eyes, both of them wore nondescript uniforms and carried katana on their hips. They both looked displeased to be in Team Baki’s presence, though Yoshifune, the larger of them, did a better job of hiding his distaste behind a professional veneer. 

 

“Baki, this is Yoshifune. He used to work for Sunagakure but was given special dispensation to leave their service and come work for me privately, full-time.” The client said.

 

“Yes, we are acquainted. We used to serve together.” Baki said, making no move to greet his old comrade, and likewise no warmth was extended to him either.

 

“And this is Arran, his apprentice and deputy. They both command the bulk of the security around the mine and typically accompany me on these journeys.”

 

Since Baki-sensei and this Yoshifune person used to work together, Naruto assumed he was around Jounin level. These rubies must been really valuable to need two Jounin level shinobi, two Genin, and whatever Arran was supposed to be. Not to mention Gaara. Naruto was beginning to doubt this was the easy, introductory mission he had been led to believe.

 

As they were guided outside to meet the cart drivers and cook and begin the mission strategy briefing with the outside security force, Naruto worried that the presence of two obviously hostile shinobi would mean Gaara would be even less willing to let him out…

 

Both the head and deputy security chiefs seemed hostile with all four present Suna shinobi, but they appeared to be wary of Gaara in particular, maintaining a constant distance and letting their hands stray towards their weapons when forced into proximity.

 

In another room the combined group found a large chest being guarded by six of the security staff. Baki gave an order for Gaara to carry the enormous chest for them, which he followed, ignoring the worried body language of the client who could maintain his pretence of ignorance only up until the demon ninja of Sunagakure started handling his precious merchandise. Heedless, Gaara followed them back out into the courtyard with the heavy chest wrapped in his sand. Naruto was tempted to try his luck and break free, but this did not seem like a good moment, meeting the client and all, and Gaara would only tighten his grip in the future if Naruto took such ‘liberties’.

 

Outside, the two carts were waiting with the same six security staff members making a perimeter around them. Naruto thought it was a little silly. Who would be crazy enough to attack a fortified compound when they would be taking the box of jewels outside any minute now?

 

“These will be our drivers, Yusuke,” He pointed to a scrawny looking teenage boy who smiled widely at them, “And Yura.” And to a girl who looked very much like the male but was much more reserved. “A very reliable pair. I employed their father back in the day and now they work for me too.”

 

The fraternal twins were very friendly and bowed politely, looking around at the three Genin with intense curiosity.

 

“And here is Aisu, my favourite employee of all.” Chianki said, gesturing grandly at the middle-age woman who blushed and waved a dismissive hand at her employer’s flattery.

 

“If that were true I would be able to afford a bigger house.” She said with a grin.

 

Chianki laughed loudly and Naruto decided he liked him.

 

Gaara was instructed to gently place the chest into the front cart and then join the entire extended security detail as they huddled to discuss the formations and plan for the weeks ahead. Naruto kind of zoned out at this point, looking around instead at the private security still keeping watch about the place. With so many of them about, he wondered why Chianki-sama had bothered hiring Suna shinobi.

 

If Yoshifune was a Jounin, then his deputy had to at least be a Chunin, so were all the rest of these guys at the level of Genin? If so, Naruto figured they were more for show than anything. Maybe they were all Chunin, then? But weren’t Daimyo supposed to prevent private armies?

 

It was all just too confusing.

 

Instead he focussed on Yura, who was quite pretty (compared to Temari, the only girl he had seen in a week), who was stood by her cart and watching the from afar. Both the young cart drivers, and Chosuke, seemed to be fascinated by the Suna shinobi, which Naruto couldn’t blame them for. He figured it must be torture to have to live so far away from a hidden village and not get to see or learn to do any of the amazing ninja stuff he could do. Doubly so in a crummy country like this one where all they had to look at was sand and pointy-stabby-death-plants (cacti).

 

Gaara had once calmly mentioned that Wind was also home to giant scorpions and vultures big enough to carry horses, at which point Naruto had ended the conversation and gone to hide in Gaara’s room for a little while, looking out the window as if one of the predator birds would swoop down for him any second.

 

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As they started off towards Jōgaya, the formation was optimised for distant observation, apparently. Naruto thought it was similar to how Iruka-sensei used to separate him from Kiba and the other trouble-makers in class so they couldn’t continue to disrupt the class. Temari and Kankuro were flanking either side of the cart carrying the chest while Baki was walking along next to the back cart with the client in it. Yoshifune was riding with the chest and Arran was with Chianki, Chosuke and Aisu.

 

Meanwhile, Gaara was a ‘floating member’, meaning he walked where he wanted. It was supposed to make the protective detail more unpredictable but Naruto assumed it was really because Baki-sensei did not want to have to try and tell Gaara what to do more than absolutely necessary. Either way, it did make for a clever formation.

 

They travelled by road when leaving the town which made the walking much smoother for Naruto. As a pile of sand, he tended to shift around a lot when shaken which was uncomfortable, in a strange way. Everything was strange when you were made out of sand.

 

At night, around dinner time, Gaara announced that he was going to check the perimeter and slunk off into the night without confirmation from his commander. The client seemed delighted by the diligence of his guards and the increased distance from the monster he had heard legends about, many of which he believed were exaggerated. None of which actually were.

 

In the darkness of the sparsely clouded moonlight, Gaara let Naruto crawl out of the sand.

 

“Finally!” Naruto all but yelled with his first lungful of air. “I know you’re crazy and everything, but you have to let me out every now and then, ‘ttebayo!”

 

Gaara, as always was unmoved, though he was unsure whether he should scold his little brother for calling him crazy. He had heard people call him that before and could never work out if it was true or not; sane people did not tend to murder quite so often, but then there _were_ people out to get him…

 

It hardly seemed to matter so he let the potential insult slide this time.

 

“Anyway, I better get over there before they finish whatever sort of stew that was.” Naruto said, beginning to walk back to camp.

 

“No. You will eat here.” Gaara said, stepping into Naruto’s path and pulling out more rations, which were in ample supply now that the rest of the team were eating Aisu’s assuredly delicious cooking. Gaara would not risk otouto’s safety around strangers. Not when the strangers included men his father had once controlled, and alternatively those men were also those who had left the control of the village, so they were even more dangerous.

 

Seeing that any argument would lose him his outside privileges, Naruto sat down and ate his pathetic dinner. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life like this, spending all of his time in a gourd except for the little time his psychopathic jailor let him out for… for what? Company? Gaara didn’t seem interested in talking to him, just looking at him. Creepy as hell but Naruto could not work out what the point was. It certainly reinforced the crazy angle. Speaking of crazy, he was pretty sure he was going to go madder than Gaara if he was kept locked up much longer.

 

Naruto got less than an hour out of the gourd before he was swept back up.

 

Naruto struggled for the rest of the night, trying without rest to escape his bindings and screamed all sorts of profanity and threats at Gaara in his head, as usual. That was until Naruto said, “And don’t get me started on your mother obsession! It’s bad enough that you listen to the voices in your head, but don’t call them mother, dattebayo!”

 

And Gaara answered, “Mother is in the sand, not in my head.”

 

Naruto went silent for a moment and then said, “You can hear me in here?”

 

Gaara did not answer and Naruto had a horrible feeling the continued silence meant he was right. He had been saying some very hurtful and anatomically impossible things to Gaara when he thought he could not be heard in here.

 

Well, this was going to be awkward.

 

He had to think back, make sure he had not ‘spoken’ about his past or about Konoha, but luckily he hadn’t really, only commented about how much nicer the forests of Fire were compared to Wind’s deserts.

 

In the morning, after Naruto had spent the night watching Gaara carefully for any signs that he had taken offence to what he had been saying all this time, they crossed back over the Dansai, this time on a huge bridge. In order to be allowed over it without paying a tariff, Baki had to show his mission scroll to the toll operator.

 

From the eastern bank of the river, they took the road south until they were only around a mile from the coast. The roads were all stone now and so much smoother than the sandy, rocky ones, and infinitely better than travelling over open desert. Now, if only Naruto could walk on them himself!

 

It took a week to reach the next river, travelling along the road all day at the sedate civilian pace he had been warned to expect in the Academy when escorting non-shinobi. At night they would park up the wagons and the others took shifts staying up alongside Gaara, and each evening Gaara would go to ‘check the perimeter’ and would let Naruto out for up to an hour.

 

By the end of that week, Gaara had taken to answering Naruto’s mental questions and comments occasionally after the ex-blond spent days loudly annoying/torturing him until he did. It turned out that Gaara drew the line at one malevolent voice in his head screaming at him. So now at least Naruto had something to do in his confinement, even if it made Gaara look even more off his rocker than before.

 

Gaara had always had a twitchy, glaring madness about him but now he was actively talking to himself. This was not so alarming for the current Suna-nin who understood Gaara was probably talking to the boy in his gourd, but for Yoshifune it marked a disturbing downturn in the Jinchūriki’s already shaky mental health.

 

Eventually, the group had further crossed over the Unkei and Chagawa rivers and were headed towards the Hanagarashi River. The road was quiet along the coast which was a relief, since every time another traveller was spotted coming towards them, they all had to close in around the carts and ready their weapons. As they would pass by, Team Baki were all ready to spring into action at the first sign of provocation. It was a huge headache every time.

 

Naruto had been allowed only one full night out to stretch (or possess) his limbs. He had spent that night, as he spent the few hours he had received over the other nights, practicing his thus far useless ability to control tiny amounts of sand. Since he had been talking with (at) Gaara so much during the days now that he knew he could be heard, Naruto did not feel the need to chatter so much when he was face to face with his unlawful captor.

 

Over the course of this new stage in their travelling relationship, whereby they could converse freely while Gaara performed his duties, Naruto had encouraged Gaara to disclose more about himself and his past. For instance, Gaara shared more on his strange understanding of what it meant to be a Jinchūriki, about Yashamaru’s tragic death, about what he considered to be ‘training’ before Naruto arrived (which mostly involved taking difficult missions and killing people), and also about the early days of his career.

 

He had apparently murdered his first sensei within a week, and the only Genin he had ever been tasked to work with before his siblings graduated had been crippled within a month. He had been assigned to work on solo missions with Baki as his handler after it was concluded he would not function within the normal team structure (a decision that was revised years later after he killed another client in a rage and his siblings were finally ready to restrain him).

  
“Baki-sensei is really closed off. Was he always like that?” Naruto asked.

 

Gaara paused as he always did in answering. “Yes, he has always disliked frivolity.” As an afterthought, he added, “He became quieter after his face was scarred.”

 

“His face is scarred. So that’s why he wears that curtain!”

 

“Curtain?” Gaara still struggled with his little brother’s stupidity at times. “Yes. I left him heavily disfigured and he has kept it covered ever since.”

 

“Wait, _you_ did that to his face? How is he still your sensei?”

 

“He is not my teacher. He keeps clients away from me when I lose control and teaches Kankuro and Temari.”

 

“Right…” Naruto said, wondering again if his life would have resembled this in any way had he been able to stay in Konoha. He sincerely doubted it.

 

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On the mission’s sixteenth day, something finally happened. Unlike the attack that had occurred in the desert outside of Suna, this group were clearly better prepared. They had sprung out of hideaways, three dozen armed men and women, all armed with swords or kunai. Some were certainly missing-nin, which gave Naruto cause for concern. Bandits were one thing but fully-trained shinobi were another entirely.

 

Luckily, Gaara did not share such reservations and went straight to work.

 

Kankuro and Temari had moved the clients to the cart carrying the chest and were fending off the few who got near alongside Yoshifune and Arran who were clearly worth their retainer fees. Baki had run straight for the man he identified as the leader while Gaara was left amongst the bulk of the attackers, right where he wanted to be.

 

Gaara’s sand killed as many as it could reach, lashing out and snapping bones or piercing torsos with ease. Naruto, desperate to get out and do something, continually tested his restraints again like he had last time. It would only be a matter of time until Gaara’s control waivered again and he would be free to help.

 

This time he would be more careful.

 

“It’s been a long time, Baki-senpai.” The leader said, carefully maintaining his distance from the legendary Suna Jounin.

 

“Have we met?” Baki asked, creeping in a fraction of an inch before slipping back to his starting distance, disliking his opponent’s reaction.

 

“When I was a slave of the Kazekage like you, I used to look up to you. We even went on a mission together once, as part of a squad.”

 

“I don’t remember.” Baki said, adjusting his grip and circling around, looking for the one opening he would need.

 

“You wouldn’t. I was just a Chunin back then. And you still had your face.”

 

Baki did not respond to that. This man was going to die either way, so the taunts were simply unbecoming.

 

Finally, the attacker’s patience wore out, perhaps as he watched his comrades being slaughtered by Sabaku no Gaara near the carts. He leapt forward, hoping to slip under Baki’s guard and perform a killing blow before this became a contest of skill. Unfortunately, the deserter was not the first to try to exploit Baki’s age or blind spot, so as soon as he saw the younger man flying directly at him, Baki darted backwards to maintain the correct distance and lashed out with his kunai.

 

The leader spun away, clutching the gash that had appeared over his right brow which was now dribbling blood into his eye. Baki had to admit, that might have been a little petty of him.

 

With Temari and Kankuro, they had been sent out from the cart to ward off nearing assailants while the client and his staff huddled next to their private security. “These guys all deserters from Suna, you think?” Kankuro said, sending Karasu to snap someone’s neck.

 

“How should I know?” Temari complained, jumping away from one attacker so he and three others would try to chase after her, lining them up perfectly for her wind blades to slice them apart. “Maybe. I think I recognise a couple of these guys from the Academy. Drop-outs mostly. Not enough work to go around, they have to make a living, I suppose.”

 

“Traitors, then.” Kankuro said, falling back to the cart to keep anybody from sneaking in behind them.

 

“No honour amongst shinobi, Kankuro.” Temari said, moving to the other side.

 

“I guess not.” He said, readying Karasu for another attack.

 

Gaara was drawing the most attention, in the centre of the attack, and that made things easier for him. If everyone was trying to kill him, he did not have to hunt them down afterwards.

 

It was just as Gaara was dragging one screaming combatant towards him that his attention was drawn to a particularly fast taijutsu user who almost bypassed his automatic defence, and in the momentary distraction Naruto was able to slide out of his confinement and reconstitute himself.

 

Knowing Gaara would want nothing more than to snatch him back up immediately, Naruto jumped away, out of Gaara’s immediate reach and quickly plotted how he might take down one or two of these more experienced fighters from behind while they were focussed on Gaara.

 

He ran around the perimeter of the group trying (and failing) to kill Gaara, and struck out here and there when he could. Sadly, his melee skills were still pitiful and his pre-adolescent strength couldn’t do much more than knock a full-grown ninja to the floor. By the time they got back up, Naruto had moved on to attack someone else with the same effect as a mosquito buzzing around a feeding frenzy.

 

He tried to snatch a kunai from someone but they almost cut his throat, and all of the weapons belonging to Gaara’s earlier victims were too close to the psycho who was looking at him more than the people trying to gut him.

 

His only other option was to use his dehydration ability, which he refused to do because it was horrible. Maybe he would have to kill people as a shinobi, but he would not use his only ability to do it, he would not resort to that as his only option. So now he had to think of something else.

 

He had no weapons on him right now and he had no techniques worth using other than the sand clone, which he needed more sand to use…

 

More sand…

 

Naruto ducked under a sword strike and pushed off the rocky ground to kick the assailant in the face before flipping away. The guy he kicked seemed angry.

 

He had his idea now but he had just about pissed off enough people so that Gaara was only drawing the bulk towards him. Some of the attackers actually seemed more interested in killing Naruto now and it wasn’t giving him enough time to do anything, so he did something desperate. He ran into the ring of people around Gaara and then into the danger zone, having to duck and dodge around both the sand tendrils and the attacking ninja now. But between those two forces, Naruto was finally able to buy himself a moment’s respite while Gaara protected him.

 

He fell down on to the ground and pressed both of his palms against the stone ground, channelling all of his ability as fast as he was able. He had managed to ‘dehydrate’ rocks in Suna before, and that one time before then, so surely destroying the ground here wouldn’t be so hard.

 

Having to roll over three times to avoid Gaara’s sweeping sand proved otherwise. He was leaving puddles of sand under his hands each time he tried but he just couldn‘t crush the quantity of rock he wanted without leaving himself open to attack or recapture. Maybe his idea to try this between the opposing sides wasn’t such a good ideas after all.

 

He jumped up and leap-frogged over Gaara’s sand…egg, using the surprise that caused to retry his idea, utilising one of the numerous surrounding corpses to block his ‘older brother’s’ latest ‘rescue’ attempts and buying just enough time to let his influence seep into the ground properly.

 

The fighters were getting desperate. The whiskered one was annoying but the demon of the sand was slaughtering them left and right. If they weren’t careful-

 

All thoughts on the small battlefield went awry when the ground gave out beneath them and instead of the firm, solid stone path, they found themselves on a fresh batch of sand. The adjustment provided Gaara with the brief distraction needed to catch two more enemies and kill them. Only half left.

 

The remaining combatants did not realise until it was fatally too late that Gaara’s previously short reach, owing to his limited available sand, was now extended under their feet with the changed ground. Only one managed to make off of the ground quickly enough to avoid the snare that captured and swiftly killed all of his slower comrades, and even then he did not make it to a safe landing spot before Gaara’s sand sought him out in midair and finished the fighting force.

 

Seeing that Gaara had finished off the bulk of the attackers without losing control, Baki stopped wasting time and killed the ringleader. An old comrade he might have been, but Baki was the highest ranking Jounin in Suna for a reason and the distraction of the man’s comrades’ deaths was all he needed.

 

Naruto stared in shock at the massacre that had taken place. He had just enabled Gaara to kill all of these men, but a part of him was proud that he had played a pivotal role in the victory. What was worse was that, in his heart of hearts, he had known he was causing those men’s deaths when he supplied Gaara with the sand. Did that make him just as responsible for the killing?

 

Gaara clearly didn’t care, not even fazed by the red patches of sand around him, where the bandits had been sucked into the earth and crushed.

 

While their team leader checked in on the clients and the cargo, Naruto debated approaching Gaara or staying out of his general vicinity for a little longer; smaller chance of his being stuffed back into the gourd if he kept his distance (temporarily). It turned out to be the best option by far, staying out of Gaara’s immediate reach, as the client, being allowed out by the protective squad now, had caught sight of the additional fighter.

 

“Who’s that?” Chosuke asked.

 

Naruto realised he might have looked like a straggling assailant since he didn’t have a headband yet and had not been visibly travelling with them thus far. He forced himself to put on his biggest smile and walked over to explain. It was more luck than skill that he was able to avoid the kunai sent at his head by Yoshifune.

 

Before the privately hired Jounin-level ninja could follow up his initial attack and kill Naruto, which would lead to all of their deaths at Gaara’s already blood-soaked hands, Baki sped in between them, “Halt. He is a member of my team. He has been concealing his presence with us until now.”

 

“Why doesn’t he have a hitai-ate?” Yoshifune demanded, unsure of a shinobi able to stick so close to him and remain undiscovered.

 

“He is a trainee, only provisionally assigned to my team.”

 

“You’ve brought a student, not even a Genin, on this mission?” Chianki asked, looking displeased.

 

“Only as an observer. I assure you that the additional presence will not negatively impact our performance and you will not be charged for the extra shinobi. As he has just demonstrated, despite his inexperience, Menma has a few useful skills that can aid in this mission.”

 

Naruto was too flattered to care that Baki-sensei’s words were almost certainly insincere and given to mollify the client, not to reassure Naruto. Instead, he rubbed the back of his head and tried to fight back a blush, his prior horror all but forgotten.

 

“Well, I only wish you had seen fit to inform me and my security team before we departed. Yoshifune almost killed the poor boy.” Chianki added, still looking uncertain at the grey-skinned, whiskered boy. A provisional shinobi was a strange thing to send on an important escort mission, especially one that was most likely a defector from another country. Still, it meant there was one more shinobi between him and the demon child of Suna.

 

“I apologise. He was only supposed to be observing this mission. This breach of procedure will be reported to the Kazekage and dealt with accordingly upon our return.”

 

“Well, I don’t know that you need to do anything so drastic. Chosuke said it looked like he really helped out your other student so you needn’t discipline him on my account.”

 

“Thank you.” Baki said, bowing and covertly glaring at Naruto behind him. The brat was a burden enough, now he was forcing Baki to humble himself in front of a civilian.

 

Naruto divided his attention between his negotiating sensei and his creepy, crazy ‘older brother’ who was slowly moving in Naruto’s direction. Better keep any eye on him or else he’d get swept up without a chance to fight back.

 

“So, I noticed you could perform a few interesting tricks with the sand. I was of the impression that only those with… special abilities could manipulate the elements like that.” Chianki said.

 

“I am afraid Menma’s techniques, like all jutsu used by Suna shinobi, are proprietary secrets of Sunagakure.” Baki interjected before Naruto might boast about his newly improved skill set.

 

“Of course.” The client said, looking at Naruto sideways and the way the demon boy was sneaking up on him.

 

Naruto had been focussing too much on the conversation between the client and his sensei after all and failed to keep an eye on the psychopath at his back. He was halfway inside the gourd by the time he noticed what was happening. So used to this procedure, he didn’t bother cursing as he was sucked in.

 

It scared him, that this half-existence was becoming normalised to him.

 

He settled in to his non-existence in the gourd and started to rationally explain, for the sixteenth time since he had discovered this ability to converse with his captor, that imprisonment was not kind and nor was scooping him up without warning. Gaara never answered these complaints to Naruto’s satisfaction, or even responded half the time.

 

The client did not accept this turn of events with the same taciturn resignation of the Suna shinobi, instead gaping at the sudden and wanton act of homicide between his protectors. Baki immediately deduced the issue and spoke up, “He is not dead. Menma’s abilities allow him to travel in the form of sand. He and Gaara work closely together. That is how he has been travelling with and observing this mission.”

 

Chianki was still off-put and made sure not to wander anywhere near the clearly mad demon host, also keeping his stepson from going over. The boy was not stupid but he had had a fascination with ninja since he was a small child, his affluent parents prohibiting the dangerous career path despite the boy’s desires. Seeing such an impressive, albeit unhinged, shinobi so close was too much for the naive boy to handle and clearly wanted to grill him about his sand abilities as well as this Menma’s.

 

“You mustn’t bother that one, Chosuke.” Chianki warned. They may have been shinobi, trusted implicitly to do their jobs (and nothing else), but everybody in Wind had heard stories about Sabaku no Gaara, demon of Suna, and knew that no one was safe from him if he took offence.

 

While nothing was said openly to disparage the reputation of Sunagakure’s ability to ensure a client’s safety, Chianki had heard whispers of commissioners going missing or being ‘unavoidably lost to enemies’ on missions with the demon boy. Chianki would have refused the team (if he thought that might be allowed) but those same whisperings, and some more public records spread a great deal more proudly, spoke of that same demon boy’s monstrous efficiency and power.

 

Chianki had decided that the weapon would be an asset on this mission since his cargo was so valuable. Clearly he had made the right decision since an attack had already been made and repelled by the boy. Witnessing his quiet but agitated manner, Chianki had been beginning to think that the stories had been some underground marketing for the struggling shinobi village, but after seeing how he dealt with dozens of enemies in minutes, he had no doubts.

 

Now he just had to stop Chosuke from doing something dangerous like offering the redhead a full-time job.

 

Chianki approached Baki again, “Since we know he is… observing this mission, would it not be more prudent to let Menma walk with the rest of you, to boost your numbers?”

 

“Gaara is in charge of him so it is his choice.” Baki said.

 

Gaara had heard this response and scowled. Otouto was still rambling about being let out and now Baki and the client wanted to throw him out into the world. Next, his stupid siblings would chime in, knowing them.

 

It was that night that Naruto was let out to eat that he managed to run past Gaara’s guard and back to the camp. Aisu had been making a wonderful looking broth of some sort and Naruto could not bear another meal of ration bars. He got back quickly enough to grab a bowl from a startled Kankuro and was almost at the boiling pot, before it was finished cooking, when Gaara caught up to him.

 

“They’re not gonna try to kill me!” Naruto complained when Gaara advanced on him.

 

Gaara did not reason well, he was a boy of action.

 

“Is that what this is all about? Well of course your subordinate is perfectly safe with us. He seemed pretty safe with those thieves earlier, but I can promise you that none of my men would think of attacking a Suna shinobi.” Chianki said from the fireside. These Genin were becoming more drama than he thought professional, but with any luck, this might defuse some of the pent up aggression.

 

Gaara looked even angrier but did not make another move to capture his errant little brother.

 

Naruto heaved a great sigh of relief and fell back to sit in the sand next to Temari who was keeping an eye on Gaara’s reaction. Gaara stalked up to Naruto and sat on his other side, now watching the client and his staff like a hawk.

 

Naruto refrained from making any histrionic remarks about being freed, instead trying for dinner again. Aisu was about to smack his hand away with her ladle but even her civilian eyes caught the crazed one’s tensing when her spoon was raised.

 

“It’s not finished yet. I never let anyone try it until it’s done.”

 

“Aww.” Naruto whined, flopping back into his original seat and staring forlornly at the pot.

 

Kankuro glared at the boy who had stolen his bowl but had no intention of attempting to retrieve it. He would borrow Temari’s after she was finished eating, which would suck because the soup smelled amazing. It was a rarity that ninja were invited to dine with their clients, and Kankuro had never been on a mission with a dedicated cook along for the journey before. He could get used to this.

 

Since Naruto was out and free, he realised he would have to do without sleep again during the nights. Instead he stargazed with Gaara (for ten minutes before he got bored) and then he worked on his taijutsu, which Gaara was ill-equipped to tutor him in. Gaara’s was even worse than his, not that he would admit it.

 

When Naruto teased him about this gap in Gaara’s otherwise impressive arsenal of techniques and then tried to spar with him, Gaara simply sent out his sand and flattened him against the ground, crushing him into sand until he released the pressure and allowed Naruto to reconstitute.

 

“Teme.” Naruto growled, starting the first of many attempts to avenge this loss.

 

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Naruto had briefly worried that being an active member of the squad and walking beside them to guard the cart rather than being carried around like luggage might have been disappointing in some way, boring even, but it was no such thing. Granted, very little actually happened, but compared to his previous non-existence, entertaining himself only by trying to talk to Gaara or watching the scenery, it was a regular party.

 

He had not been given an assigned position so he ended up wandering freely, which was ideal since Gaara would not let him stray further than five feet, meaning Gaara was still continuing to function as a floating agent. Naruto was akin to a dog, Kankuro muttered, watching him excitably dart about, being left behind by the carts for a few moments while he examined some weed or shiny detritus and then running to catch up again. Gaara followed without complaint.

 

The only specific issue Gaara seemed to take was when Naruto struck up conversations with the client or his people. Granted, Chianki was not very talkative with him (since with one redhead invariably you found the other), but the others were all somewhat interested in chatting, except for the security staff who acted like the Suna-nin and took their jobs way too seriously.

 

Gaara acted like the ground would swallow his little brother up if he weren’t there to stop it but Naruto ignored him as much as he could and continued to interact with these new people under his ‘older brother’s’ intense scrutiny.

 

Naruto had complained many times over the course of these weeks that this mission was taking way too long, and it had been the responsibility of Kankuro and Temari at different times, when they still bothered responding to his whining, to explain that Wind was the largest amongst the Elemental Nations by far and was also one of the hardest to traverse. Naruto usually grumbled and would be back to complaining the next day.

 

With Gaara’s surprisingly allowing disapproval, Naruto was finally able to get to know these new people. Despite what Konoha had spent the better part of his life trying to stamp out of him, Naruto was a people person and loved getting to know anyone and everyone. Sadly, his Suna team were a bunch of psychos and jerks, but these civilians and private security people seemed nicer.

 

…Well, the civilians did. Yoshifune and Arran were as unfriendly as their Sunagakure parallels and seemed to dislike him immediately, whether because he was foreign or because he was closely tied to Gaara, he didn’t know. Still, Naruto had persevered with Arran, boredom and curiosity spurring on his dogged interactions.

 

It turned out that unlike Yoshifune, Arran and the majority of the Akaihana private security personnel had not been trained in Wind’s hidden village, but instead had primarily been trained by retirees and those shinobi specially released from active service to Suna, like Yoshifune, who had been Arran’s sensei. Naruto still didn’t fully understand why Suna let such strong and trustworthy men leave its ranks, but after two attempts at explanation, Arran had refused to try again.

 

It apparently had something to do with boosting economic growth within the country by aiding its primary producing industries in whatever way possible, and also because Suna was struggling to maintain the number of Jounin it had trained for the last war since the work had all but dried up internationally. Naruto thought he understood the second part, but he wasn’t sure why there were no missions, or, for that matter, how villages attracted customers.

 

Iruka-sensei had definitely spoken on that subject, but Naruto only remembered that lesson because it had been early in his studies at the Academy and the day he first attained and used a smoke bomb. In hindsight, he now knew to check its yield before setting under a teacher’s seat, as it had been combat-grade and had blasted the main teacher in the ceiling before choking half the class. On the bright side, it had had meant a promotion for Iruka-sensei, who had been the overworked assistant sensei before then.

 

The older sensei had been transferred to another class, lest he murder the demonic prankster brat, and Naruto had had to restrain his giggles whenever he saw the limping, middle-aged Chunin walking around the Academy, for fear of being pelted with (definitely not blunted) shuriken.

 

As bad as Naruto felt for hurting the lazy, boring teacher for no reason when he was younger, Naruto still smiled as he remembered the day.

 

Seeing that the peculiarly coloured trainee shinobi had drifted into some sort of remembrance, Arran had taken the distraction to move away and avoid further interaction with the dim foreigner. Plus, Yoshifune-sensei would undoubtedly lecture him on not being distracted on duty. No matter how old any of his students got, Yoshifune-sensei was always ready and willing to give them a stern talking-to if they stepped out of line.

 

The drivers were incredibly friendly and always happy to talk, especially about Wind. Apparently they were patriots, whatever that was. Naruto tried asking Gaara what that meant but Gaara also didn’t know, and Naruto didn’t like asking his team too many questions in a day as they started getting upset (after the first fifteenth or so). In any case, they both proved to be veritable fountains of trivia for his new country – once they had confirmed with their boss, and the client with Baki, that the foreigner was to be trusted with civilian-level knowledge of the country.

 

It was through the two drivers, Yusuke and Yura, that Naruto learned that half of Wind’s citizens lived along the Dansai or Temari rivers and around Reto Lake. Naruto asked (question fourteen of the day, before noon) and that was indeed where Temari’s name had come from. The rest of the populace were mostly split between Suna, Jōgaya, and the relatively verdant north. There were a few small settlements at oases and on the southern coast, but those were few and far in between. Naruto considered himself lucky to have stumbled upon a human settlement in such a vast and lifeless country as Wind.

 

Although, eyeing the way Gaara was sticking to him, Naruto wondered again if he might have been better of walking past Sunagakure and trying his luck at the next village.

 

As knowledgeable and talkative as the drivers were, Naruto’s favourite person on the trip was definitely Aisu. She was a delight to chat with, even on subjects not directly related to food, although anybody with a half-decent ramen recipe memorised was a precious person in his books. She said his old pranks sounded hilarious, but had to warn him off trying to demonstrate one since everyone was either their boss/superior, or likely to try killing him. The only ones safe to prank were the twins, and Naruto didn’t really feel like doing anything to them when they were so nice.

 

Baki-sensei could have used the levity but even Naruto knew that wouldn’t end well, even if Gaara would protect him from any lethal retaliation.

 

In the evenings, Gaara would often drag Naruto away after he had eaten and they would spend the nights together, sometimes without exchanging more than a few words. Spend enough time with someone, especially someone as disinclined to talking as Gaara, and himself being caught in a web of falsehoods, it soon became difficult to keep any conversation alive. Although, he did get to learn where Gaara got his tattoo from, which was a story he could have done without knowing, if only because pitying Gaara made it harder to hate him for being a weird, stalking creep.

 

Instead, Naruto continued his training when silence abounded and he wasn’t allowed to sleep more than a couple hours a night. By the mission’s twentieth day, he could make a miniature tornado of sand over his palm, not that it was a skill good for anything but amusing himself as he walked. He wasn’t expected to keep watch (or do anything); that much had been made abundantly clear to him by multiple people.

 

On that day, they reached the last of the Great Rivers. The bridge over the Hanagarashi River was blocked by a pair of huge muscular men that Naruto had to remind himself were probably far weaker than they looked. Between them stood what looked like a Daimyo official, fitted in robes probably more expensive than Naruto’s old apartment (likely claimed by the village as a possession of a traitor by now…)

 

Baki went on ahead of the carts to show the official his mission scroll and get everyone moving. However, by the time the front cart reached the bridge, the guards had not moved and everyone was forced to halt. The shinobi had to reposition themselves, now that they were stationary targets, and await their leader’s resolving the hold-up.

 

Naruto, not being tethered to any set position, wandered around to the front, where Baki-sensei was still talking harshly with the smug official.

 

“That’s does not matter. Without direct permission from the Daimyo, your mission does not constitute a pass anymore. You need to pay for your caravan like everybody else, shinobi-san.”

 

Naruto did not like aristocrats and their lackeys, and this man stunk of that same arrogance and derision.

 

“Fine, we will cross elsewhere.” Baki-sensei said angrily. They would simply have to travel a mile up the river and have Gaara form a temporary bridge.

 

“That will not do. To cross this river anywhere, you must pay the toll, regardless of whether or not you use the bridge provided. You may travel north and walk around the river entirely, but that would cost you several days or a few weeks.”

 

Baki gritted his teeth. The Daimyo had been causing problems for a while now but this latest insult to Suna was ridiculous! Kazekage-sama would be sending more than one missive from this.

 

“Fine. Show me your royal seal and I will speak to my client.”

 

“Very well.” The official wasted no time in pulling out a finely-crafted fake. Baki took an extra moment to examine it before it was snatched back out of sight and the confident looking imposter sneered at him again. Baki smiled now.

 

“Before I inform my client, might I ask which lord you report to in the capital?”

 

“Why should I tell you that?” The false-official spat, tired of this shinobi’s impudence.

 

“I would like to check with them, to see if they themselves have been providing these fakes to imposters.” Baki said.

 

The official’s face didn’t shift, he simply snapped his fingers and jumped back so that his flanking bodyguards could move in to strike down the nosey shinobi. Naruto saw this turn of events and was about to jump forward to help his outnumbered sensei in any way he could but before he could close the relatively small gap, both of the burly men’s head were already falling off of their shoulders. Naruto wasn’t sure how Baki-sensei had managed to decapitate both men without any weapon in his hands, but his eyes still sparkled in joyous pride at his current teacher’s obvious strength.

 

The imposter had already jumped over the side of the bridge and into the fast-moving river, being carried downstream already.

 

Kankuro was on the bridge by that point and Temari was pulling out her fan, both ready to pursue atop the water and finish off the conman, but Baki told them to stand down.

 

“The current is particularly strong on the Hanagarashi this time of year. A civilian like him will be swept out to sea and will drown. No point in wasting energy to run down a dead man.”

 

The convoy moved on after that, Naruto watching his sensei with new eyes, even as his mind boggled at the number of thieves, bandits and fraudsters in this country. Surely Fire had not been this bad!

 

Naruto had the poor sense to vocalise this disbelief openly within earshot of his sensei, to which Baki-sensei responded, “How is it that a wandering ronin’s apprentice is so ill-versed in the proliferation of thieves across different nations?”

 

“Uhh…” Naruto’s mind ran as fast as it ever did, hopefully he wouldn’t simply name a different ramen topping this time, “Well, I guess I must have just been lucky…” He laughed it off and rubbed the back of his head to show how totally and absolutely nonchalant he was.

 

Baki quietly decided to revisit the Kazekage’s decision to allow this clearly dishonest boy into their military and so close to the weapon. No doubt Rasa-sama knew what he was doing, but Baki needed to know the plan if he was to keep watch over the probable spy.

 

Frankly, the best argument against Menma being a spy was that he was such an obvious contender.

 

Finally, two days after crossing the Hanagarashi, they reached the outskirts of Jōgaya. In the evening light, the capital city looked magnificent to Naruto, who had only ever seen towns, and villages, the biggest being the hidden villages which were both dwarfed by this place. Some of the buildings he could see in the distance, near the centre of the city, looked even bigger than the Hokage mansion!

 

Naruto was desperate to go and sightsee but one look at his team and his request died on his lips. Everyone looked as surly as usual, and Gaara looked close to a panic attack as they all marched into the city streets with their carts. So many people clearly had the unstable Jinchūriki spooked.

 

The rest of the team were on edge with Gaara in such a densely populated place. Gaara had only come to the capital twice before, and the first time he had killed three civilians that Baki had to dispose of discreetly. The second time had only been spared a body count because of Temari and Kankuro’s inclusion onto the team and their providing a distraction to Gaara.

 

That had been at the beginning of their initial reacquaintance, when Gaara had been somewhat interested in them. That interest fortunately ended before he decided to murder them to ‘prove his existence.’

 

While the streets of the capital were supposed to be relatively safe from serious crime, barring the odd pickpocket or murder here and there, Baki-sensei had reminded them before they entered the city proper to not let down their guards.

 

As they passed through a busy market street, a couple vendors saw the rich-looking carts and the shinobi with disposable income and decided to make a final sale of the day. They shouted offers from the sides and tried to entice the teenagers and adults to examine their wares, to little effect. When that failed, a few more tried the direct approach, carrying over trinkets and items, to demonstrate their brilliance to the prospective buyers.

 

They made a fatal mistake when they stood in Gaara’s way, darting in front of him to try and foist a roll of silk into his hands, so that he might feel its quality. The man had gotten scared when he spotted the crazed look on Gaara’s face and perhaps even spotted the sand creeping out of his gourd. Before Gaara could follow after his retreating prey, as he clearly intended to do, Naruto stepped in and dragged him onwards by his leather sash.

 

This was his first trip to the capital and Naruto had no desire to be in the middle of a massacre.

 

Gaara looked angry at him but Naruto didn’t care so long as he did not try to capture him. Gaara had tried to scoop Naruto up before they entered the city, being very wary of letting Naruto out amongst so many unknown people, but Naruto had threatened to pick a fight with the Kazekage upon their return to the village. Naruto felt no guilt by scaring his obsessive _partner_ since it seemed to work.

 

Still, it meant that Gaara was now walking right next to him at all times and looked ready to commit a murder whenever someone walked in front of them, which was frequent on the busy streets. Gaara’s pause in order to massacre the traders had been the most distance he’d allowed since they entered Jōgaya and it ended swiftly as Gaara regained his senses and brushed Naruto’s hand off of his sash.

 

Kankuro and Temari had had enough and they broke formation to approach their sensei, needing to confer this second instance of previously unheard of temperance from their psychotic little brother. Gaara did not spare targets once he had them in sight, not without another death taking the target’s place, and twice now Menma had distracted Gaara from his blood sport. Baki agreed that this might simply indicate a positive change, as they hoped, but he warned them that this could also ‘soften’ Gaara. After all, who needed a _kind_ weapon? It was unclear whether this was the case as Gaara had not hesitated to slaughter the bandits without issue or complaint.

 

The other issue was the one Baki was more concerned about, that they were ceding what little control and influence they had over their precious Jinchūriki to a foreigner, which might harbour disaster. Hopefully Menma really was as dumb as he acted, in which case they had a great deal less to fear.

 

The carts were led right through the city to the other side, to the docks where their boat was already waiting to be loaded. They were not due to sail until tomorrow but the chest and remaining supplies were to be stowed away tonight and guarded by Gaara, Naruto, Temari, Kankuro and Arran until they left. Baki and Yoshifune would escort Chianki and Chosuke to a nearby inn for the night, since they insisted on a comfortable bed.

 

The drivers and cook were to stay on the boat too, not invited to spend a night on a comfortable inn mattress, to their chagrin.

 

The young guards were all to take shifts watching the chest, with Arran staying up all night to keep an eye on the Suna-nin. Even official Suna shinobi could not be trusted with this much money, was the thinking of both the client and the village, so missions like these almost always included private security to keep the real ninja honest.

 

Gaara ended up staying up all night with Arran, to the latter’s discomfort. Naruto was allowed his scant two hours, further adding to his already impressive sleep deficit and the growing bags under his eyes.

 

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In the morning, Arran was downright skittish after enduring Gaara’s unwavering gaze for a full four hours while Naruto further practiced his sand control to amuse himself. Naruto had considered coming to the security worker’s rescue and distracting Gaara for a while, but when he tried talking to Arran that evening, he had been very rude in his refusal.

 

Kankuro and Temari had taken turns to patrol during the night while Gaara watched the cargo, so they ended up sleeping in a little later than scheduled, causing Gaara’s to glare disdainfully at his lazy teammates. Naruto _had_ taken pity on them and woken them before Gaara got it into his head to do it. Less gently, by Naruto’s guess.

 

Did they appreciate his kindness? No, they did not.

 

Then again, him screaming for them to wake up, a scant few feet away from their ears, might not have been the gentle awakening he thought it was. He was pretty sleep deprived himself and it was making it harder for him to concentrate, he reckoned, as he blankly watched them growl at him and threaten to do everything short of physically injuring him (in line with Gaara’s standing orders).

 

Baki-sensei and the client showed up mid-morning, along with a dozen stout sailors looking upset to have been ejected from their own ship for the night by their paranoid commissioner. Still, no matter how resentful they were of the shinobi who had taken up residence on their sacrosanct vessel, they knew better than direct any of their anger directly at the trained killers. Everyone had heard stories of these weapons who looked like children, who could kill grown men with terrifying ease.

 

Baki-sensei listened to the brief reports of the night’s inactivity and gave them their new orders for the day. They had several hours before the ship was due to depart so he sent out the three Genin and whatever Naruto technically was, since Baki could not accept that he was a full-fledged Genin with his lacking skill set, to re-provision. Baki and the private security pair would stay on the ship with the client and oversee the sailors.

 

Even with Kankuro and Temari flanking his sides, Gaara was even more panicked than he had been the day before as they wandered through the crowds. The streets were much busier in the morning and the elder Sand Siblings had their hands full keeping Gaara’s path clear.

 

Predictably, as soon as they had left the docks and seen the hustle and bustle of the capital city streets during proper trading hours, Gaara had scooped Naruto up and secured him in his safe gourd. Naruto was pissed, having wanted to explore Jōgaya himself, but seeing how close the natural redhead was to throwing a fit (and possible a few people), Naruto tried to resign himself to only watching the short tour of the city.

 

Obviously, the sane pair of Genin were trying to keep the shopping trip brief, wishing they could have left Gaara somewhere quiet while they followed their orders, but there was every chance Gaara would be overwhelmed without their interference and do something regrettable in their absence anyway. Despite their intentions and Gaara’s clear discomfort, their younger brother would occasionally dart off in a different direction to stand over by a stall or pick up an item.

 

As they watched him examine some sort of glass sphere for sale, at an exorbitant price, it was plaint to see on his face that he did not care about it nor have any intention of buying it. The shop owner looked displeased to have some child touching his wares but he refrained from shooing away the browser because he was a ninja.

 

Gaara continued to hold the fragile trifle for a couple seconds more and then returned it to where it had sat, walking back in the direction they had previously been headed. Otouto had been insistent that he be shown any shiny trinket or bizarre object up close that they passed on the market street. It delayed them greatly but it stopped his little brother from continuing his struggles so ardently.

 

It also stopped him singing to annoy him.

 

Temari and Kankuro had no idea what had spurred on this uncharacteristic bout of curiosity and wanderlust. They observed and tried to keep up with Gaara’s random traipsing about, his interest in products even extending to stealing a few of them, which Temari and Kankuro winced at. They did not have any extra money to remunerate the sellers and there was little hope that they would be able to adequately explain the idea of purchasing to Gaara in the next five minutes, so they followed after him and hoped that the shop and stall owners continued to be less vigilant than the ones in Suna.

 

While less used to the skilled hands of a shinobi thief, the men and women, and especially the children, of the capital seemed very interested in the trio of Suna ninja. Living and working around a shinobi village, it was easy for some to forget that shinobi could be a comparatively rare sight in some towns and cities.

 

To Naruto, the idea was ludicrous. The only places he had lived had been filled to the brim with shinobi, they were a fact of life. Civilians looking in his direction with anything but hate or fear was also something of a novelty for all three of them, but Gaara didn’t look like he even noticed them all, he just continued on his way, deviating only when Naruto excitedly yelled for him to get a closer look at something. Whenever he was really interested, Gaara took it. Naruto hoped Kankuro or Temari was paying for these things.

 

He did suggest Gaara could probably get away with snatching a single copy of the newspaper on sale, since Naruto wanted to see if that ‘reporter’ in Suna had written anything.

 

They returned to the ship in time with all of the provisions, as well as the various knick-knacks and snacks Naruto had ordered his carrier to acquire. The sailors were anxious to leave as soon as possible, so with the returned Genin team on board with all of the supplies they would need, they were told (not ordered) to go below deck with the other passengers and wait there until they had left the Bay of Bunpuku.

 

Since it was only familiar faces below deck, Naruto was allowed out to peruse what Gaara had stolen for him. It was a bit like Christmas, except really, really not.

 

“Hey, where does the name Bay of Bunpuku come from?” Naruto asked openly. This was apparently his country now, until a better place became available, one without psycho captors, and he should probably learn a little bit about it. It was also something to fill the silence.

 

“A bay is bigger than a cove but smaller than a gulf.” Kankuro piped up, smirking.

 

“No one knows where Bunpuku comes from. Someone’s name, most likely, but I don’t think anyone knows who they were.” Yura spoke up, always happy to share her knowledge. She ducked down her head afterwards with everyone looking at her.

 

No one jumped to continue the discussion of history and Naruto’s attention had in the meantime shifted to the newspaper, identical to the copy that Chianki was leisurely reading by the single candle lit in the darkness. Naruto scooted closer to him, conscious of the eyes tracking him. With the dim light, he started reading what he soon discovered to be a totally boring set of stories.

 

He was definitely not a reader, as his previous efforts directed at the fast-paced action adventure fictions that Iruka-sensei had tried recommending to him had proven. Trying to muddle through a weekly edition of a national publication that dealt mainly with politics, agricultural reports, trade negotiations and editorials on the plight of the overburdened courier, Naruto soon wilted and tried to sneak a peek at their client’s paper in case his was more interesting.

 

Seeing an exact copy, Naruto started flicking through the pages, looking for any interesting pictures, of which there were a few woodcut illustrations. He was also looking for any subtitles with that journalist’s, Minestu’s, name on them, but only found one. It was apparently, from what Naruto could gleam, the latest in a series of articles about Minetsu’s time in Suna. Sadly, it didn’t mention Naruto or even Gaara, and instead focussed on Suna’s architecture. It was vague and presumably avoided giving any specifics because of Suna’s censorship, which made it even more boring to read, so Naruto dumped his paper and returned to where he had been sitting before so Gaara would stop making everyone feel even more uncomfortable with his glaring.

 

When the ship had sailed out of the bay into the Hanguri Gulf, a lone sailor had poked his head through the hatch and said the guards were allowed up on deck now.

 

Baki and the security guys, along with the clients and their staff, were to stay below deck with the chest, while the Genin got to stay up on deck and keep watch for pirates.

 

Like so much of active shinobi duty, as Naruto was learning, watching for pirates was much like watching for bandits in that it mostly consisted on doing absolutely nothing. They had five days with essentially nothing to do but sunbathe since the sailors made it abundantly clear that the shinobi were not needed (or wanted) to run the ship.

 

Naruto was let out surprisingly quickly after Gaara saw that his reputation had preceded him amongst the seamen. They knew what Gaara would do to them if they went near his little brother.

 

Kankuro had immediately taken up residence on the stern of the ship while Temari was stationed at the bow. Gaara, as usual, was free to roam but he seemed to like the crow’s nest. It was physically the furthest away from anyone he could be on the ship. Plus he could see Otouto anywhere he went on deck.

 

The puppeteer of the team was using the time to tinker about with one of Karasu’s detached limbs, while keeping an eye on the horizon. Naruto had asked him what he was doing (several times) and tried to observe the delicate ministrations but his impatience soon won out and he tried his luck over with Temari.

 

She had been dividing her time between dozing in the sun with one eye flickering open to keep watch from time to time, polishing her fan to a high gloss, and working out. Naruto had not noticed before, and he worked hard not to notice it too blatantly now, but Temari was the most muscular girl he thought he had ever seen. Granted, his knowledge of the opposite sex beyond the rather limited pool of his classmates from the Academy was lacking, but Temari was really strong-looking. It was scary, really. As if she weren’t intimidating enough already.

 

After taking a long look at her gravity-defying, one-handed handstand push-ups, Naruto went back to the empty starboard and lamented his own doughy physique.

 

The next day, after Gaara refused to further discuss Naruto’s sand techniques since they had not progressed even a little since the last dozen times he talked about them, Naruto went to talk to Kankuro. He tried Temari first but she had said something very unkind so he figured the puppeteer was the safer bet.

 

“What do you want?” He sighed, continuing to paint some strange substance on to one of his senbon. When that was done, he carefully slid it into a container and pulled another out from a different container.

 

“Nothing,” Naruto said, squinting under the sun, “just wanted to talk.”

 

“ _About_ anything?” Kankuro said. After living and travelling with the dyed boy for the worst part of a month, he knew just how loquacious he could be if he was allowed.

 

“Well… umm,” Naruto quickly tried to think of something that might interest the older boy and save Naruto from the silence. “You’re the Kazekage’s kid, right?”

 

Kankuro paused and looked up at the idiot standing in his sunlight. “Do I really have to answer that?”

 

“It’s just, I know Gaara’s a weird case, but how come you and Temari don’t live with him?” Naruto almost mentioned that he knew that the Hokage used to have a few close relatives living with him in his mansion.

 

Kankuro nudged Naruto to the side with his foot so the sun would glint off of his weapons again and he didn’t end up having to use his own anti-venom like some novice. “We’re not a close family.” He said this while returning to his work, ending the conversation.

 

“How come?”

 

Again Kankuro had to look up at Menma, trying to figure out how he had actually been apprenticed to a ronin when he was both incredibly annoying and entirely without tact.

 

“None of your business.”

 

Naruto wanted to contest that _he_ wasn’t the one who insisted he was part of the family, but he didn’t want to agree with Gaara. Kankuro started ignoring him and he knew he only had one more chance before he was told to go away, so he concentrated as hard as he could to come up with something better to talk about.

 

Sadly, his mind was one-track and all he could think about now was his new boss. “So, how long has your dad been the Kazekage?”

 

Kankuro sighed. “About fourteen years, maybe thirteen. Before Gaara was born.”

 

“That’d make sense, I guess.” Naruto said, stroking his chin, wondering about the process of creating a Jinchūriki. “Is he a good leader?”

 

“You expect me to badmouth the Kazekage and my father?”

 

“I guess not. So what happened to the last guy, was he really old like the Hokage?”

 

“The Hokage? No, the Sandaime was young, in his prime. He disappeared during the Third War. Probably killed by the one of the other Kage.”

 

Naruto sincerely doubted the Old Man would have done something as dirty as kidnapping and secretly killing another village’s leader, but he was too nervous over his slip up, mentioning the Hokage, to fret over it.

 

“And your dad’s really young so he’s probably gonna be in the job for a while yet.” Naruto continued. He had always wanted to be Hokage and in his mind becoming the Kazekage would make do as a substitute ambition. The people in Suna treated him like trash, in a comparable but different way to Konoha, so being recognised would still be satisfying. Plus, if he were Kazekage, he could order Gaara to leave him alone.

 

“Planning treason already?” Kankuro asked with a snort.

 

“No!” Naruto was quick to overreact. “Just wondering how long I’d have to wait to get the job.”

 

“You? Kazekage?” Kankuro openly smirked now.

 

“Yeah, why not me? Plus, who else is gonna do it? Baki-sensei?”

 

“Because you’re a weakling. And Baki-sensei won’t do it either. He hates politics. No, Temari’s probably going to take over when our father kicks it.” He said casually.

 

“Temari?!” Naruto looked over to where she was still working out. “How come? I mean, she’s strong and all, but Gaara’s probably stronger, right?”

 

“Gaara’s not eligible. He doesn’t care about running the village anyway. He’d just as soon see the rest of us die than do anything to help. It pretty much always runs in the family in Suna, so it’s probably going to be Temari or me, and she’s stronger than I am.” Kankuro said before quickly following up with, “But don’t you dare tell her I said that!”

 

“Sure.” Naruto said, trying to imagine either moody teenager as leader. Temari did fit the picture a bit easier. “So Gaara’s not even eligible?”

 

“He’s not a leader, he’s a weapon.” Kankuro said this with a strange bitterness that Naruto didn’t understand.

 

Naruto didn’t like the idea of the successors all running in one family, it reminded him of those stuck-up clan jerks back in Konoha, and it excluded him from the running. Suddenly, in Naruto’s mind, the only thing in his way was the family bloodline he didn’t possess.

 

One _teme_ in particular came to mind.

 

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The day after his informative talk with Kankuro, he tried begging the older boy to teach him water walking. Baki was apparently too busy to waste his time, but Kankuro brazenly said he couldn’t be bothered. Naruto, dejected, looked up at Gaara who was still in the crow’s nest, staring right back down at him, and immediately wrote that option off. Gaara might be willing to try and teach him but he was an awful instructor.

 

That only left…

 

Temari was surprisingly willing to, as she phrased it, ‘bring him up to a basic level of shinobi proficiency so he didn’t impede their duties further than he already had’. He was sure she was insulting him somehow, but he was just happy for the help.

 

However, this relief soon waned as Naruto learned that the inability to teach in any sort of reasonable manner, like the leadership of Suna, ran in the family. He realised this vital piece of information after Temari had tethered his body to the back of the ship and promptly, and literally, kicked him off into the sea. She shouted for him to try waterskiing with chakra first and then try running.

 

He very nearly drowned half a dozen times, which Gaara failed to protect him from. Kankuro had moved over to laugh at him while Temari shouted stern and unhelpful advice, half of which he couldn’t hear of the waves that he kept being dragged under.

 

Sadly, this late juncture was when Temari learned that Naruto did not know how to swim, which made his frantic struggling in the wake of the ship all the more desperate as he inefficiently tried to stay above the water.

 

And all through this torture Gaara watched from the crow’s nest.

 

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By the time they had sailed through the Nanmen Gulf and were entering into the much colder Kanashii Ocean, days later, Naruto was running along behind the ship, periodically jumping over the boat’s wake and the sporadic blade of wind his sadistic temporary teacher sent his way whenever Gaara’s looked away for a moment. Gaara clearly knew something was going on because the glares he sent towards Temari, which were already harsher because of her hard treatment of his Otouto, had turned downright frosty but he couldn’t murder her for something he didn’t see happening.

 

Well, he could, and most likely would one day, but right now he refrained and continued watching to make sure his little brother’s distress did not verge into actual injury.

 

Kankuro had taken to watching the horizons from next to Temari despite the tactical disadvantage because this sort of entertainment was too good to pass up, but despite his enjoyment, even he thought his sister was a crazed sadist when given half the chance. It was why he had trained as a puppeteer as a child rather than requesting she teach him what she knew of nature manipulation.

 

Granted, he had always liked playing with puppets (which were _not_ dolls!), but he had known better than training in anything even tangentially related to Temari’s expertise.

 

He watched Menma running unsteadily on the water’s surface and tried to gauge how much of his imbalance was due to his inexperience and how much could be attributed to the choppy waters he was running atop. It was as the grey-skinned boy performed a flip and loudly ‘whooped’ in the air, that Kankuro thought he saw something on the back of Menma’s neck. He couldn’t make it out but whatever it was, it was dark. Kankuro would have to tell the overly energetic idiot to shed the seaweed he’d presumably picked up before re-boarding the ship.

 

For hardened seamen, the sailors were surprisingly precious about their deck’s cleanliness.

 

A half hour later, after the day’s torture had concluded with the same promise of continuance tomorrow, Kankuro double-checked and found nothing on Menma’s neck. The seaweed must have fallen off already, or it was just a trick of the light.

 

Other than Temari’s Spartan training, Gaara was again all over Naruto, ready to snatch him up if one of the sailors looked at him the wrong way. Or if he was being ‘unruly.’ It soon came to the point where Naruto walking in the direction of anybody other than a teammate would have him ‘rescued’ and spending several hours in the gourd.

 

It clearly wasn’t about protecting him since, even by Gaara’s insane standards, the friendly wagon drivers surely posed no threat to him, weak as they were, and yet Naruto was disallowed from going near them.

 

By the end of the voyage, Gaara was glaring at everybody and back to only letting Naruto out for meals, to be eaten in seclusion, and nothing Naruto said made any difference.

 

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It was on the mission’s twenty-fifth day that their ship docked in Degarashi Port on the western coast of the land of Tea. They all spilled out onto land as soon as the gangplank was laid down, eager for both firm footing and some form of bathing facility that did not leave their skin salt-encrusted. Kankuro was surprisingly precious about his skin.

 

As soon as they alighted, they moved the chest onto another waiting carriage and transported it through the significantly smaller city than their last port. Chianki had bought out a small inn for the night, where they would all rest and recuperate before the final leg of the journey. Naruto would have liked to have seen this city as well however Gaara would not let him step foot on dry land, locking him in the gourd for the entirety of the afternoon and evening. It was past midnight when Naruto was finally allowed out for a bite to eat and a quick wash.

 

After he had dried himself off, he pleaded with Gaara to let him stay out for a while. As usual, the redhead’s porcelain face could not be moved by Naruto’s words alone, and his attempts at logical reasoning were pitiful. In the end, all he could do was try staging a physical confrontation again.

 

Naruto saw that look in Gaara’s demented eyes that meant the sand would soon be unleashed, to snatch him up, so Naruto ran forwards, into Gaara’s personal space, and grabbed him by his white cotton and leather sashes and tried to throttle some sense into him. Gaara’s automatic defence did not view him as a real threat so it allowed Naruto to shake him while shouting as quietly as he could, considering the extremely late hour. This turned out to be loud enough to wake someone in the floor below, Naruto guessed this from the muffled yelling and the thumping sound coming from the floor.

 

“Stop shaking me.” Gaara softly commanded him, reaching up with his smaller hands to try and dislodge the ones still gripping him.

 

“Not until you stop being a crazy jerk!” Naruto replied.

 

“It’s not safe out here.” Gaara said for the millionth time.

 

“It’s safer than me being bored to death.” Naruto said, losing some of his steam now.

 

“I will not let your existence perish.”

 

“It’s not gonna perish. I’m not that weak, dattebayo.”

 

“You are weak and young. I am your older brother, it is my job to protect you.”

 

“Kankuro doesn’t have to protect you and he’s _your_ older brother. And he’s actually older than you.”

 

“I have never thought of him as my brother. Kankuro is a weak idiot. And I do not need protecting.”

 

Naruto had a hard time refuting that when he saw just how strong Gaara’s sand techniques were. “Well neither do I!”

 

“But-”

 

“I’m staying out.” Naruto said definitively.

 

Gaara glared, as he always did, but he stepped back out of his little’s brother’s reach and then sat down to keep watching him. Naruto knew he would have to stay near Gaara and endure his unceasing watchfulness, but that was better than captivity.

 

Mildly.

 

During the night, since he could not train without causing damage to the establishment and he had taken his uselessly weak sand controlling ability to the limits of individual development, Naruto spent the hours he would have rather been sleeping talking with Gaara again. He spoke of movies and childhood games and nostalgia, and he talked of his loneliness as a young boy; something to which he figured Gaara could relate.

 

Gaara did not react to confessions of a shared childhood trauma, instead he kept his cold eyes bearing down on Naruto throughout. Clearly Gaara resented any and all moves by his little brother to establish a measure of independence too much to be paying attention to what he was saying.

 

In the morning they were to set off early, so as the rest of the group yawned and moved about sluggishly, those more used to sleep deprivation, or those recently introduced to forced sleep deprivation but aided by boundless natural reserves of energy, helped load the chest and supplies onto the cart. While Naruto was all too happy to ferry the boxes of food, water, and camping gods into the cart, he could only stand back and watch as Gaara moved the heavy chest onto the cart again. Without his sand control, this would certainly have been a more difficult mission involving lots of heavy lifting and sore backs.

 

The image of Gaara working in a construction crew floated through Naruto’s head and made him spontaneously laugh.

 

“What was that about?” Aisu asked from behind him.

 

Naruto related the thought to her, discreetly, and she agreed that it was worth a chuckle. She had been very kind to him during this mission, always willing to listen to him talk when everyone else eventually would tire of him. Whether she was singularly interested in his stories and thoughts or simply the most patient was unclear, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

 

Gaara looked over directly to where he had been watching Naruto from the corner of his eye, but this circumspect manner of surveillance had not warned him of an approaching danger. He would have to devote an eye to watch otouto fully from now on. He turned to his little brother and watched them interact. It was the cook who was too friendly with his little brother.

 

Gaara watched as they chatted and laughed, his frown growing more severe as time passed. He watched as otouto made some wild gesture, and then as he stage-whispered something to her. He watched as she playfully slapped him on the back, making him yelp and then laugh alongside her.

 

He had watched her slap him. Slap his little brother. Slap otouto.

 

He killed her before anyone could blink an eye. His sand had flown out without hesitation or delay, wrapped her up and crushed her to death before she could even whimper or panic.

 

Naruto had not been able to process the unprovoked violence, not until the blood spurted out of the sand coffin and onto his sandals. He looked up in shock, hoping he had not seen what he thought he saw, that Aisu-san was safe and that Gaara had just murdered an inbound assassin instead.

 

A quick look around the area at the horrified faces all staring at Gaara and not finding Aisu anywhere confirmed that the cold rock forming in his chest was supposed to burst any second and release the pent up grief he should be feeling.

 

“Wha… but she…” Was all he managed to say as his mind finally started running again.

 

Everyone was shocked by the sudden and senseless bloodshed as Baki immediately leapt into action and started apologising to the client, who was understandably upset that his long-time employee and treasured personal cook had been murdered in front of him with no provocation. The elder sand siblings were less surprised, instead they assumed their assigned positions, weapons at the ready to defend the client (as much as possible) from their little brother should he go into full meltdown, and ready to defend Gaara should the client’s private security make good on the threats their looks were implying.

 

While these professionals went about the business of clearing up after Gaara’s latest mess, Naruto screamed and ranted and raved at the psychopath who had just killed someone he liked, who had been kind to him. He shouted at Gaara for being crazy and dangerous and for giving Jinchūriki a bad name.

 

Gaara made no excuses for himself, although he did seem confused about that last statement, but he just did what he always did when his little brother acted out like this: tried to capture him. Naruto saw this coming and felt sickened by the idea of being so close to this wanton murderer.

 

The sand was too fast for him to dodge effectively so he used what little control he could muster over the sand and managed to stall its movements for one and a half seconds while he jumped out of the way.

 

He screamed more profanities at Gaara from a safer distance and then he dived out of the sand’s path one last time and jumped onto the closest roof and took off running. Never before had he been so desperate to escape from this deluded killer, so he pushed himself to run as far and as fast as he was able, into the deepest parts of the port city where he might never be found.

 

Temari caught up to Gaara as the redhead slowed to a halt in a busy street, having given chase and then lost the trail, looking around as if lost without his ever-present adopted brother within reach. Baki and Kankuro were still back with the client, trying to calm frayed nerves, leaving her to deal with her youngest brother.

 

It was as Gaara stopped turning around, looking for someone who clearly wasn’t there, that Temari realised the full extent of the problem. Gaara was distressed, swiftly becoming angered. She was stuck dealing with a pissed off Gaara in the middle of the Land of Wind’s capital city…

 

“Temari, I want him back now!” Gaara said without looking at her.

 

Temari stared at the back of his head and wondered what sequence of words she could utter that might spare her life, since none of them could honestly imply she had any way of complying with his unreasonable demand quickly enough.

 

“Yes, Gaara…”


End file.
